While they walked
by Unhobbity Hobbit
Summary: During those days of non-stop walking, the fellowship must have had some pretty inane conversations, mostly started by the hobbits. I've written a few of them down.
1. Ages

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 1: Ages  
  
"So," said Pippin, the place was far too quiet. He didn't mind silence as a rule, but hours of it got on his nerves. "Boromir!" he said, just because Boromir was closest to him. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" It was such a typical question but an interesting one all the same.  
  
"Yes, one brother." Said Boromir in clipped tones. Pippin nodded in acknowledgement and walked in silence once more until he realised Boromir wasn't going to expand on the subject.  
  
"What's his name?"  
  
"Faramir."  
  
"Oh, that's a nice name."  
  
"Yes, I've always thought so." There was more silence while Pippin racked his brains for something to say.  
  
"How old is he?"  
  
"Thirty six."  
  
"Really? Why that's the same age as Sam! Don't suppose he's a gardener though." Upon hearing mention of his name, Sam joined the conversation.  
  
"What are you saying about me Mr. Pippin?" he said, unable to keep the suspicion out of his voice.  
  
"Did you know that Boromir's brother is the same age as you, Sam?" Sam raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Younger brother I should hope." Said Sam.  
  
"Yes," affirmed Boromir, "Four and a half years younger than myself." Both hobbits stopped dead, causing Merry and Frodo, who had been walking silently behind, staring at their toes, to bump into them. There were assorted cries of 'watch where you're going!' and 'what have you stopped for?' before peace was restored and Boromir was able to ask the reason for their surprise. They continued walking.  
  
"Why," said Sam, "You've only been seven years as an adult! What father would send his son out at such a young age? I know Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin here are younger but we were in dire circumstances, are things really as bad as that where you're from?" Boromir looked quite bewildered and Pippin was catching Frodo and Merry up on the conversation so far. Boromir opened his mouth to reply with confusion but Merry butted in first.  
  
"Forty? A whole ten years younger than Frodo here!" Boromir shook his head, had he heard that correctly?  
  
"I'm sorry, did you say ten years younger?"  
  
"Well, he's not aged a day since he came of age, but it's a good adventuring age!"  
  
"Begging your pardon Mr. Pippin but I don't think there is such a thing as a good age for adventuring."  
  
"Well, it's as good a age as any. Only a year younger than Bilbo was." Boromir was becoming more and more lost in the conversation. He'd only been asked about his brother! What had happened?  
  
"Mr. Bilbo didn't want to go adventuring at first though, like any sensible hobbit."  
  
"Sam, are you saying my two fine cousins and I aren't sensible?"  
  
"Oh Mr. Frodo no!" Sam quickly rethought his words, "Well, yes I suppose I am if I'm not being too bold. Not enough hobbit-sense between the three of you to fill a thimble."  
  
"Well, we're fine with that aren't we Frodo?" Frodo nodded. "Now what were we talking about? Oh yes. You're only forty?" Pippin turned to Boromir again, who nodded dumbly.  
  
"Pippin, that's still twelve years older than you, I don't think you have the right to say only forty." Boromir did some quick calculations in his head.  
  
"Wait, you're saying that Pippin is twenty eight? I thought he was still a child!" Boromir was very muddled.  
  
"He is still a child, can't you tell?" That earnt Merry a shove.  
  
"But I was fighting orcs at twenty eight!" There was a gasp from the hobbits, especially the younger of them.  
  
"That's just not right! You can't spend your best years fighting orcs!" said Sam, though Boromir could barely tell the difference between the four anymore.  
  
"Surely that was your first time?"  
  
"First time?" Said Boromir, finding a thread of the conversation he could latch on to. "I truly wish it was."  
  
"Does your brother fight orcs?"  
  
"Of course, I don't think he's as keen as I was, but he still does it and very well."  
  
"I can't imagine Sam fighting orcs, He'd probably end up hitting them round the head with a frying pan!" Pippin broke down into gales laughter. Sam looked rather affronted.  
  
"It's a fine use for a frying pan, as long as it gets the job done!"  
  
"Yes, it doesn't matter what it is, sometimes in battle you even have to use the stones from under your own feet." Boromir was talking from experience.  
  
"Oh well we've all done that. We took out a fox that had got past the bounders didn't we Merry?" boasted Pippin.  
  
"Yes, you did." Said Frodo, "And you needn't keep telling us that you have."  
  
"Oh Frodo, just because you couldn't throw a rock to save your life."  
  
"Mr. Frodo can throw! I've been on the receiving end of one of his stones and it stings like you wouldn't believe!"  
  
"Sam!" shouted Frodo, Sam immediately went a deep red and put his hand over his mouth. "You promised you wouldn't tell anyone!"  
  
"You threw a stone at Sam? Why did you throw a stone at Sam?"  
  
"I didn't mean to, only my aim was a little off."  
  
"I remember what Bilbo used to say!" cried Merry. "'Good and strong' he said, 'but couldn't hit a barn door'!"  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Frodo, I didn't mean to say a thing, my mouth just opened and it popped out!"  
  
"That's alright Sam, I-"Gandalf interrupted, announcing that they would stop for a short break. The hobbits immediately forgot their argument and set about making the spot as homely as they could, a ritual with them it seemed. They left behind them a very lost and confused Boromir, Aragorn came up behind him, laughing slightly.  
  
"We should help them with the camp."  
  
"Is everyone in the Shire like that?" Aragorn looked thoughtful.  
  
"Most likely." 


	2. Of Arguments and the Shire

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 2: Of Arguments and the Shire  
  
Legolas and Gimli were arguing, again. They were getting on most of the fellowship's nerves, excluding the hobbits. Their arguing usually would irk the hobbits as well, but this time the 'discussion' was so ridiculous, the hobbits could barely keep a straight face and so were walking behind the pair.  
  
"If I had wanted you to answer the question then I would have addressed it to you, elf."  
  
"Pardon? Were you talking to me? Only I didn't hear my name so surely you weren't addressing me."  
  
"That's not what I mean and you know it." Growled Gimli. "I had asked Aragorn the question, not you or anyone else, I wanted only Aragorn to answer it."  
  
"I didn't hear my name again."  
  
"Yes, but I hadn't addressed it to anyone else so it was a general comment anyone could respond to, I wouldn't mind it."  
  
"I suppose you're going to call it manners?"  
  
"That's what it's generally known as, yes."  
  
"Why, I'm surprised you dwarves could come up with things such as manners. You've always got your head stuck in the ground searching for some gold when you've already got enough to last until the end of time!"  
  
"Well at least we've got our heads somewhere near the ground, not stuck up in the clouds-"  
  
"With the birds, thinking you're higher than everyone else." Chorused the hobbits. Gimli and Legolas turned around and stared at the four hobbits, now doubled over with laughter, even Sam who wasn't laughing with quite so much abandon as the other three was finding it hard to walk.  
  
Finally Pippin was able to gasp out: "You sound just like Bilbo and Lobelia!"  
  
"They were always arguing just like that!"  
  
"Lobelia?" Asked Boromir, eager for some more information on this land his country had protected for so long. "Was she Bilbo's sweetheart?" The hobbits looked at one another and immediately burst out laughing again.  
  
"We're sorry Boromir, you couldn't possibly know but there is no way you could possibly be further from the truth."  
  
"Lobelia was Bilbo's most hated relation, and the feeling is most certainly mutual."  
  
"Especially after those spoons he gave to her when he left."  
  
"Just as well he did leave really or he might not be with us still to tell the tale." The story was passing between the hobbits in such quick succession it was hard to tell which was talking at any time, even their accents seemed to merge together when taking on the age old tradition of gossiping.  
  
"Still, Lobelia should be happy now I've left Bag End to her."  
  
"All my stars! The garden! She can't possibly be giving it the attention it deserves!"  
  
"Think of it Sam!" teased Merry, "There may be weeds!" Sam gave Merry such a look that Merry felt he should apologise and he did so.  
  
"So you've sold you home?" said Boromir.  
  
"Yes, Frodo's leaving Hobbiton had to look natural, it was a great conspiracy."  
  
"A conspiracy within a conspiracy."  
  
"How many conspiracies were there?"  
  
"Oh who knows? None of us have been bothered to count."  
  
"That many?"  
  
"No, we're all just very lazy."  
  
"Except possibly Sam."  
  
"And Frodo may be considered among the active due to all his walking."  
  
"But you're all walking as much as Frodo ever did now, I'm sure."  
  
"Well, yes, but we have to. There's a difference, Merry and I had to learn our letters and did so with great pains."  
  
"One with more pains than the other."  
  
"Yes, thank you Frodo, but Sam actually asked to learn them. Why I'll never fathom, but that's the way it is."  
  
"Learning your letters is a great privilege! How-"  
  
"Sorry Sam, but may I ask, why do Merry and Pippin both need to be educated and not you?"  
  
"I am but a gardener, I have no real need for writing any letters or any of that while Mr. Pippin is a Took and Mr. Merry is a Brandybuck." Of course, Boromir hadn't a clue of the important families of the Shire, so his look was quite blank.  
  
"Let me explain, Pippin is one day to be the Thain, you could call him the king of the Shire, I suppose."  
  
"Oh please don't, Thain is bad enough, imagine the responsibilities of the king!"  
  
"Fine, he's the king but the politics are decided by the mayor. Merry here, will one day be master of Buckland though. A land often mistaken as part of the Shire."  
  
"And that job includes all the politics." Merry looked none too thrilled. Pippin laughed at his friend's future bad luck and was wrestled to the ground by Merry.  
  
"Not a fair fight! I didn't have any warning!"  
  
"Yes, but you could get me on the ground if I gave you warning."  
  
"I'm sure you'll survive Merry." Merry smiled up at Boromir and let Pippin continue walking.  
  
"You are good a wrestling then Master Pippin? Merry's taller than you if I'm not mistaken." Said Gimli.  
  
"Trust a dwarf to be interested in a 'sport' like wrestling."  
  
"Excuse us," said Merry and Pippin, "Wrestling is a fine sport. And yes I am rather good even if I do say so myself."  
  
"He's small but quick."  
  
"Not that small either, not when he's sitting on you."  
  
"That's not very sporting."  
  
"That's only when I want something, and I'm nearly as tall as you Merry, you've no right to call me small, only Frodo still can really." Pippin paused as he took in the people surrounding him, "And possibly Gandalf, Strider, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir too."  
  
"Sam, I do-"Frodo was stopped from saying what ever he was going to say by an arm across his chest belonging to Merry, who was squinting at some trees not far off. Everyone looked in the same direction and all at once the hobbits cried "Apples!" and bounded off to get themselves a snack or three.  
  
The three beings left behind after the conversation looked at each other, elf, dwarf and man joined briefly in pure bewilderment, until they decided to keep walking and let the others deal with the rampant hobbits.  
  
Still, at least Boromir had learnt a little more about the four of them. 


	3. Secrets

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 3: Secrets  
  
Frodo was humming. It was a tune he had heard Legolas singing and from time to time he'd add in few words he'd picked up.  
  
"Oh no, Legolas, You've gone and got Frodo monging again!" said Merry.  
  
"He hasn't has he? Oh will we be plagued by it forever?" Frodo stopped humming and sighed audibly, drawing smiles from both Merry and Pippin.  
  
"I'm sorry, what is it I am being accused of?" Inquired Legolas, a true lack of understanding showed on his face.  
  
"Oh you know, monging!"  
  
"I am afraid I don't know, is it some kind of Shire talk? Like those mathoms I've heard you talk of?"  
  
"No, no." assured Frodo, "This is pure Pippin and Merry talk as you might be able to tell from Sam's face." Legolas glanced over to Sam to see that no light of understanding shone through his face either.  
  
"Then what, may I ask, is 'monging'?" Merry and Pippin came either side of Legolas and began to talk in a business-like manner.  
  
"Well, you see,"  
  
"It goes back a long time,"  
  
"To when I was just eighteen I should think,"  
  
"We found Frodo in the kitchen singing,"  
  
"But he didn't know all the words,"  
  
"So he hummed in some places."  
  
"We realised he did it all the time,"  
  
"So we decided it should be given a name.  
  
"We thought it was a cross between music and singing, so we called it monging."  
  
"Surely minging would be more accurate?" said Legolas, who should, by all rights, have had severe whiplash after looking from one hobbit to the next so quickly.  
  
"That's what we thought at first, but we decided monging sounded better."  
  
"We drove him to learn all the words of a song before he started singing it and so stopped any monging in Bag End,"  
  
"But it seems you've started him off again."  
  
"Is this something I should be ashamed of?"  
  
"Not sure, it does mean we can tease him about it again."  
  
"You two do seem to pick on Frodo rather."  
  
"We're only taking our revenge. He and Bilbo together managed to refine the teasing of young relatives to an art in itself."  
  
"He did nothing but tease me for the first fifteen years of my life, I was traumatised."  
  
"Frodo doesn't seem like one to tease." Said Boromir, who had been listening with half an ear, if only because their conversation would be more interesting than the owls hooting.  
  
"That would be what he wants you to think. Very cunning, Frodo is."  
  
"Look you two, if you are going to tell sordid secrets of my past, then you could at least try to get me somewhere away from the conversation."  
  
"Sordid secrets! I'll show you sordid secrets!" said Pippin rather loudly, he went over and whispered extremely quietly in Frodo's ear, not even Legolas could hear what he said. Frodo's eyes opened wide.  
  
"Merry!" He said in shock, "And with Estella? She's Fatty's sister! What would he say?" Merry looked at Pippin in complete disbelief.  
  
"You didn't." Pippin smiled smugly and Frodo began to laugh. "You promised you'd never tell anyone!"  
  
"I did no such thing! I just never did tell anyone and you assumed that I'd promised, you were too drunk to remember that much of the night."  
  
"Merry! Drunk! Now that's a sight I'd like to see!" said Boromir with an amused smile.  
  
"It really isn't, if he's not trying to punch you in the face, he's dampening your shoulder with various liquids from his face."  
  
"Sounds very similar to Faramir to me." Said Boromir, mostly to himself.  
  
"There Merry," Said Pippin, patting Merry reassuringly on the back, "Even noble men make complete fools of themselves when they're drunk." Merry spun and grabbed Pippin's arm and tried to get him on the ground, but Pippin had been expecting exactly that and managed, to everyone's surprise, to reverse the roles, leaving Pippin victorious.  
  
"The lad wasn't lying, he is good at wrestling." Remarked Gimli.  
  
"Don't worry Mr. Merry," said Sam smiling to himself, "I know a few secrets someone here wouldn't like me to tell anyone." Pippin immediately jumped off Merry and ran to Sam and would have got on his knees if they weren't walking.  
  
"No Sam, please don't. I'll do any thing, I swear." He looked very desperate.  
  
"Half your meals for a week?"  
  
"Yes." Answered Pippin immediately, everyone looked at each other quite astonished.  
  
"And you can do all the cooking. I want to be the last to get up for a change."  
  
"Yes, certainly, fine. Anything else?" Sam gave Pippin a calculating look.  
  
"No, that should do just fine." Pippin was visibly relieved, and for once embarrassed to be the centre of attention.  
  
"Aragorn! Can I walk with you?" Pippin rushed off to walk next to Aragorn.  
  
"What on earth can dear innocent Pippin have done?" asked Boromir, quite astounded with what had come to pass.  
  
"He was more drunk than Merry was and as a result, perhaps a little too open with some things."  
  
The hobbits smiled contentedly in the knowledge that they had something to use against the seemingly infallible Peregrin Took. The rest of them, as always, were mildly confused. 


	4. Hobbits Don't Always Stick Together

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 4: Hobbits Don't Always Stick Together  
  
Pippin was up early, much to his annoyance. True to his word he was cooking the first meal of the day, or night as they were sleeping during the day and walking at night to avoid unfriendly eyes.  
  
He woke each member of the fellowship with a forced smile, some suspected there would be something wrong with the food, a result of Pippin's bitterness or just plain tiredness. But the food was good, better than most food cooked on the road in fact, not quite to Sam's standards, but it seemed all hobbits were born with the ability to cook.  
  
Merry and Frodo weren't easy on Pippin though, they picked up on everything, as if they were expecting a king's feast.  
  
"The eggs are a little dry."  
  
"And is this some burnt toast I see?" Pippin sat down with his hand on his chin, resigned to his fate to be unfairly compared to Sam.  
  
"Pippin, I think Sam's had a long enough rest." Said Gandalf gently. Pippin sighed and gently woke Sam with the aroma of a sizzling breakfast, half of which should have been his own.  
  
Pippin sat as far away from his kin as possible, the other side of Boromir. He was in a foul mood.  
  
"I don't suppose you like your breakfast either." He was eating slowly, hoping that if he spent long enough eating it he could trick himself into thinking he was eating a breakfast of Shire proportions.  
  
"No, no, you hobbits seem to have an affinity for cooking, you have no idea how many pieces of charcoal I've had to eat when one of our company couldn't cook. Pippin giggled, it wasn't in his nature to be in a foul mood for too long.  
  
"Are you sure they didn't give you the logs off the fire and eat the food themselves?"  
  
"Well, that's what we would have thought, had he not managed to burn the food when we didn't actually have a campfire." Pippin giggled again.  
  
"He must have been really bad at cooking, worse than old Bullroarer."  
  
"Does he have infamously bad cooking then?"  
  
"Well, just among the Tooks. He was an infamously good fighter to everyone else."  
  
"Yes sometimes those two go together."  
  
"Pippin! Come back! We didn't mean it!" came the calls from the far side of the camp.  
  
"Actually, I like it here, Boromir actually appreciates his breakfast!"  
  
"And so do we! Come back!"  
  
"By all rights it's dinner." Muttered one of them loudly. Pippin recognised it to be Sam.  
  
"It's not dinner, it's breakfast. You're breaking your fast aren't you?"  
  
"Yes, but the sky isn't the right colour for it to be breakfast."  
  
"If we're going by sky colour then it's tea-time!" Pippin left Boromir and stood in the middle of the camp. "Look, when you cook the food you can call it what you want. But I've cooked it and so I say goes!"  
  
"Fair enough." Mumbled Merry and Frodo, who weren't much bothered with the naming of meals, just that they got one. But Sam and Pippin both seemed to both be fighting for their pride. It wasn't a usual thing for either of them to do, but travelling without enough food for days on end obviously did that to some people.  
  
"It's just not right, I can't be eating breakfast before it gets light."  
  
"So put it in your pack and save it until morning!"  
  
"That's just plain stupid Mr. Pippin."  
  
"Sounds like something you'd do then." The two hobbits reclining on the ground after a quite satisfying, breakfast-dinner-meal gasped.  
  
"Pippin! You apologise to Sam right now!" said Frodo, standing up and going into older cousin mode.  
  
"No!" said Pippin, going into stubborn child mode.  
  
"You're worse than Legolas and Gimli put together you insufferable Took!" both Legolas and Gimli were put to shame in being referred to in such circumstances. Pippin just sat back next to Boromir and ate what little was left of his breakfast, fuming.  
  
"Boromir, can I walk with you? I want to hear about your country, seeing as mine has deserted me." He glared at Frodo, who rolled his eyes and sat back down between Sam and Merry.  
  
"Certainly, little Pippin, I would be glad to. But would you not want to be on better terms with the rest of the fellowship first?" Pippin nodded the tiniest nod he could manage. Gandalf called for them to move on and it took next to no time before they were walking again.  
  
Legolas, Gandalf and Aragorn were at the front, followed by Sam, Merry and Frodo, behind them were Boromir and Pippin and last of all was Gimli. Boromir and Pippin slowly caught up to the other hobbits, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, though they both knew they were being watched out of the corners of seven other sets of eyes.  
  
"Sam." Said Pippin in a very small voice. "Recite the alphabet?" Sam did so. "You're right, you're not stupid, sorry." He finished with a small smile.  
  
"I've decided you don't have to give me half your food, that was a little too cruel. Here's your toast back."  
  
"Oh thank you Sam!" Pippin leaped on Sam in a huge hug, which nearly toppled them both over, but they were steadied when the other two rushed to join them.  
  
"Boromir! You were going to tell me about Gondor?" Boromir was caught off- guard he had expected that to have taken a lot longer. He could see Gandalf smiling to himself ahead of him and he shook his head in slight confusion.  
  
"Yes well, where do you want to start?"  
  
"Oh, anywhere will do." 


	5. History and Ale

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 5: History and Ale  
  
"Boromir?" Said Pippin after many hours of silence. It was amiable silence, but it cannot be denied that silence of any kind will eventually become boring.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"When did you say the stewards started ruling Gondor?"  
  
"2050." Replied Boromir almost immediately. Pippin thought back to the very brief history lessons he had had at home.  
  
"Frodo, what would 379 be?"  
  
"What do you mean 'what would it be?'"  
  
"In Boromir's time."  
  
"Oh, that would be," Frodo screwed up his face in thought. "1979, I think."  
  
"Tooks beat the stewards! We've been the ruling the Shire longer than you've been ruling Gondor!"  
  
"Pippin! You know that wasn't the Tooks, the first Took Thain was in 740, before then it was the Brandybucks!"  
  
"Oldbucks."  
  
"Same thing." Pippin stuck his tongue out at Merry, while Boromir was, for the countless time, lost.  
  
"Well Mr. Pippin, you've got a longer family history than I have."  
  
"All the way back to the Gamwiches, am I correct?"  
  
"That's what I was always told."  
  
"Well Sam," said Frodo, "You and I can be from the families of little consequence." Sam raised an eyebrow at him, "Of littler consequence then." Pippin's stomach, at this moment in time, decided that it's plight was not widely known enough and let out an almighty rumble, echoed by Merry's and to his embarrassment, Boromir's.  
  
"Well, it's only fair that our bellies should have a good conversation too." Said Merry jovially.  
  
"Did you hear that Gandalf?" Pippin called forward. "It's the Long Winter all over again!"  
  
"Aah yes, the Long Winter, when the rumbling of hobbit stomachs could be heard for miles around."  
  
"I'm being serious Gandalf, We are in danger of dropping to the ground like flies on a cold autumn afternoon!"  
  
"Who, Peregrin Took, said I wasn't being serious?" Pippin mumbled something under his breath, but very quietly so only Legolas chuckled.  
  
"Is this the same winter that struck Rohan?" The hobbits didn't know, so Gandalf answered.  
  
"It is. A terrible time, therefore one Peregrin would find suitable to make light of." Pippin glared at Gandalf's back, something he'd never do to the front half.  
  
"Well, I think it's important to keep a smile on your face."  
  
"We're with you Pippin! It won't do to keep a frown on your face all the time you're walking."  
  
"You'll get a headache after a while for one thing."  
  
"Pippin, I noticed you didn't have all the dates set firmly in your mind." Said Boromir, bringing the conversation back to more comprehensible topics.  
  
"Well, history is not a strong point of us hobbits, we don't study it much, we've never found it important."  
  
"Unless it was Fatty and Ruby kissing in the bushes outside the Green Dragon."  
  
"Well, yes, there's that sort of history, but we don't go in for the general sort much."  
  
"That's not quite true Mr. Pippin."  
  
"Oh, how could I forget?"  
  
"1070!" the hobbits chorused.  
  
"What's that?" queried Boromir.  
  
"Tobold plants the first Pipe-weed in the Southfarthing!" The hobbits answered as one. Boromir laughed so suddenly he began to cough. He, of course, was expecting something along the lines of a huge battle in which they triumphed over a great evil. He should have known better by now.  
  
"Pipe-weed?"  
  
"Aye, we'd lend you some, but we've got none for ourselves either."  
  
"Yes, nobody seemed to have any, even at Rivendell."  
  
"The elves of Rivendell aren't in the practice of smoking anything." Said Aragorn.  
  
"Nor are the elves of Mirkwood." Joined Legolas.  
  
"Well, you must be educated in the matter, it is a most respectable past time!"  
  
"Aye, I'll drink to that!" said Gimli as he took a swig out of one of his waterskins. The hobbits immediately turned on him.  
  
"You have drink? And you didn't tell us?" Gimli put his hands up.  
  
"Calm down lads, it's just water." The hobbits seemed to sag in disappointment.  
  
"What I wouldn't do for a half-pint from the Dragon."  
  
"Or the Ivy Bush."  
  
"Even the Floating Log would do!"  
  
"Oh anything would do! Some of old Rory's home brewed even!"  
  
"You quite certain of that Merry? I tried some of Rory's home brewed and it was barely recognisable as ale."  
  
"You can keep all your taverns and Inns, I'd give the world for a good pint of the house brew at the White Star, can't beat it."  
  
"No no no, you're getting it muddled with the Green Dragon, honestly, whenever you're up in Bywater you have to drop in."  
  
"You come to Minas Tirith with me and I'll show you the best Inn in all the White City."  
  
"But some visit us in the Shire and we'll show you the best Inn in all Middle-earth!"  
  
"That is quite a claim my young friend."  
  
"Not quite-so-young, he's ten years older than you remember."  
  
"My old friend then." Corrected Boromir.  
  
"Of course, something has to be said for daddy's brew."  
  
"Are you thinking straight? That does not compare!"  
  
"In taste, probably not, but it's twenty miles to the Green Dragon, but only twenty steps to the cellar."  
  
"Yes, I suppose that has to count for something."  
  
"Twenty miles? There's your fault, The White Star's three circles down and thirty houses on."  
  
"Only twenty miles for half of us, it's walking distance for Sam and I."  
  
"We're back to taste again."  
  
"Well, we're going to have to work something out. As soon as we're done with the Ring, we'll meet you in Minas Tirith and we'll have a drink-"  
  
"Or few."  
  
"Yes, or few, at the Star, then you come home with us to the Dragon and we'll compare." Boromir eyed them all then shook each one by the hand.  
  
"Very well, it's a deal." 


	6. Intimacy

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 6: Intimacy  
  
Boromir was returning to the real world after a short break of daydreaming while they ate their midnight meal. He stood up and brushed himself down and was welcomed back to reality by the sound of Pippin yelping.  
  
"No Merry! Stop it! I don't need your 'help' as you put it. Ow!" As far as Boromir could see Merry was hitting Pippin on the bottom. Boromir couldn't see how that could ever be thought of as help.  
  
"Merry, what are you doing?" Boromir asked.  
  
"I'm helping Pippin get some feeling back into his bottom." He grinned innocently.  
  
"I knew I shouldn't have mentioned it." Grumbled Pippin.  
  
"I'm sorry Pippin." Said Merry and he opened his arms for a hug. Pippin grudgingly obliged. Boromir saw, along with the rest of the company, what was about to happen. Merry drew his arm up and brought it down upon Pippin's bottom as hard as he could. All but Legolas and Gandalf winced while pippin let lose a great cry and pushed Merry away from him.  
  
"Will you two keep quiet? The orcs in Mordor will hear you if you keep this up." Merry and Pippin quietened while Merry laughed and Pippin massaged is bottom.  
  
"There's going to a bruise, I'll wager. Or if not that, it'll be red for another week."  
  
"The same could apply for my hand." Merry stared at his reddening hand.  
  
"Your hand!" said Pippin and was given a warning glance by Gandalf, "Your hand!" he repeated quietly, "That's the least of my worries."  
  
"Your bottom's not numb any more is it?"  
  
"No, and that's half of the problem!"  
  
"Oh Pippin, I really am sorry now. Truly." He beckoned Pippin in for another hug.  
  
"You're completely sorry?"  
  
"Utterly sorry. Forgive me." Pippin went to Merry's arms again and was rewarded with a great big hug. The fellowship began walking again, Merry, Pippin and Boromir dropped to the back.  
  
"Are all hobbits as intimate as you?"  
  
"Intimate?" Merry and Pippin glanced mischievously at one another and suddenly Merry swept Pippin up in his arms.  
  
"Oh Merry!" said Pippin in a very bad imitation of a feminine voice. And then they shared a kiss. One that Boromir thought was inappropriate for cousins, he'd never kissed his cousins as they weren't very close, but the last time he'd kissed his brother in anything that came near that way he had been ten. Pippin broke it by giggling.  
  
"I can't hold you for much longer Pippin."  
  
"Don't you dare drop me!" And so it was that they both ended up on the ground, Merry's arms had given way and Pippin had tried to hold on, but only succeeded in dragging Merry down with him. They were laughing so hard they had trouble dragging themselves up again. Neither of them could look at Boromir's face because it only made them laugh harder.  
  
"Ignore them Boromir." Frodo came to the rescue and gave both Merry and Pippin condescending looks. "No, hobbits aren't usually as intimate as that, but the hugging is quite normal. The extravagant kissing, where does that come from?"  
  
"Well," said Merry, still recovering from the laughter. "We developed it for hiding in the Dragon."  
  
"We hid in the kitchen, the cleaning cupboard, the pantry-  
  
"We should hide there again." Interrupted Merry with a blissful smile on his face.  
  
"Under the kitchen sink, even in the rafters-"  
  
"I remember that, you caused quite the fuss."  
  
"You're the ones who were hiding in the rafters?" Said Sam, "I'll have to tell May when we get back, she always wondered about that."  
  
"Yes, but none of those places worked and the punishment for failing to come back from the Dragon and then trying to hide is not pleasant."  
  
"Once when we were being dragged from the Dragon in fear and shame we noticed a couple kissing, they were ignoring the world around them completely and no one was disturbing them. That, of course sparked an idea in our minds."  
  
"Whenever there was hint of Uncle Paladin or my own father turning up, then we'd sneak into a badly lit corner and pretend to be a courting couple."  
  
"So every time you disappeared for hours when you were staying with me and even your own fathers couldn't find you, you were in the Dragon as always?"  
  
"As always." Agreed Merry. Frodo shook his head in disbelief.  
  
"What would your fathers do if they found out?"  
  
"That's not a thought I'd like to entertain, but you know that if anyone decided it would be a good idea to inform a parent of our past wrong-doings it is entirely possibly that the rest of their life would not be spent being the healthiest they've ever been.  
  
"Your secret is safe with us, isn't it?" said Frodo.  
  
"Aye, that it is." Said Sam.  
  
"Boromir?" said the four hobbits, turning on him.  
  
"Yes, yes of course." He could see hobbits could be a formidable force if they banded together. "I'll remember to say nothing if ever I see more of your families."  
  
"You will most certainly see more of our families, for if you are ever to come to the Dragon then it will be hard to miss them."  
  
"I thought you said you lived twenty miles from the Dragon?"  
  
"We also said the ale was the best in Middle-earth." 


	7. Dogs, Hugs and Sizes

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 7: Dogs, Hugs and Sizes  
  
Pippin stood up after another midnight meal, he was no longer aware of which day of the week it was and he could barely remember how many nights they'd been going like this. And his bottom was numb again.  
  
"Numb again?" asked Boromir, having deduced as much from Pippin's awkward walking and attempts to massage without anyone noticing. Pippin looked around to check that Merry wasn't listening, and seeing him deep in conversation with Frodo, he nodded. "Perhaps you shouldn't sit in the same position for so long."  
  
"Well that's what I try to do but when I get around to remembering it's already time to be moving on. You see, whenever we have picnics in the Shire we sit and talk for an hour or so afterwards, not to mention we spend a far longer time eating in the first place. We get far more chance to move around."  
  
"You have picnics often?" Said Boromir, he'd only had the one or two in his lifetime.  
  
"Oh yes, next to the Brandywine in Buckland is a lovely spot, near the weeping willows. Then there's a beautiful field in Tuckborough, under an old oak tree, though the grass can become a little too long at some times of the year, good for playing hide and seek. But we mustn't forget the party tree. That's a tree that you've got to have a picnic under." Pippin looked dreamily into the distance.  
  
"You can have a picnic anywhere you want?" said Boromir, awed that there were so many suitable places, the only places he could think of in or around Minas Tirith were farmland and the only farmers he'd ever known were very hard on trespassers.  
  
"Well, most farmers would prefer if you stayed off their land, but you'd mostly only get a bad fright from their dogs."  
  
"Which farmer's dogs are we talking about here?" said Frodo from behind the two, making them jump.  
  
"Grip! Fang! Wolf!" said Pippin in a perfect imitation of farmer Maggot. Frodo spun around looking everywhere like a scared child, then he caught himself as he realised the trick that had been played on him countless times since their encounter with the three dogs at farmer Maggot's had once more caught him out.  
  
"Pippin! How many times do I have to tell you!" he yelled. Pippin was giggling softly, Boromir raised his eyebrow.  
  
"Are they some particularly vicious dogs you met?" asked Boromir.  
  
"No, they're as harmless as a towel in the hands of a baby." Answered Pippin.  
  
"Harmless! They were snarling and biting all over the place!" Said Sam, it seemed that once you started a conversation with one hobbit, the other three were very likely to be drawn in at some point, though Merry was talking with Aragorn at the moment, or Strider as the hobbits seemed to call him.  
  
"You're exaggerating Sam."  
  
"He's most certainly not! They may have ignored you completely, but they cornered us two."  
  
"Coming to think of it, Wolf seemed to remember you, and I'm not surprised!" said Pippin. Frodo sighed and Sam seemed to be glaring at Pippin as though he were trying to set him alight.  
  
"You were not on good terms with these dogs Frodo?" Asked Boromir tentatively.  
  
"No, I was quite the little thief, and it's nothing I'm proud of Pippin! Unlike you."  
  
"That's unfair! There are plenty of things I'm not proud of doing, I just don't dwell on them like you seem to. And for your information, I've not stolen anything for three years. Since we made Pearl cry, Merry and I have been working a few more good-natured things."  
  
"You sound like quite the little pest Pippin! I'm surprised, you seemed like such a nice boy-"No, boy didn't seem a good word for someone twenty eight years of age. "Lad." Was the word Boromir decided on, the hobbits used it themselves all the time.  
  
"Oh he's a charm when he wants to be." Frodo ruffled Pippin's curls and Pippin batted his hands away, it was clearly something that annoyed him. "He's our ickle Took." Said Frodo patronisingly.  
  
"You see Boromir? He does tease, if Bilbo were here he would have started a lot sooner. Merry and I have to band together to protect ourselves." Frodo drew him into a one armed hug. "I feel like a stuffed toy sometimes."  
  
"Oh but you're just so huggable Pippin."  
  
"That doesn't explain waking up with someone lying on top of me. I don't know who it was but they wouldn't shift!" Sam coughed a little.  
  
"That may have been me. I had a bit of a strange dream last night. Sorry Mr. Pippin." He said.  
  
"Not to worry, I don't think I'm too much flatter, well, not by your doing." Pippin patted his still slightly rounded stomach. "Boromir, do you have any fat on you anywhere at all? Surely your mother feeds you well?"  
  
"My mother is dead, and I do too much travelling to have meals like those in Rivendell very often."  
  
"Oh Boromir, why didn't you say? No wonder you're nothing but muscle." Pippin hugged Boromir around his waist, Boromir was surprised and did his best to hug back. "You see? By all rights I shouldn't be able to reach right round a big lad such as yourself, but my hands definitely touched!"  
  
"They did?" exclaimed Frodo, "I don't believe you Pippin." Pippin moved out of the way and allowed Frodo to hug Boromir. "They do!" he declared once he'd drawn back.  
  
"May I? Mr. Boromir?" Said Sam, he seemed the shier of the three, when around other people anyway. Boromir shrugged.  
  
"Yes, of course." Sam hugged him as well.  
  
"All my stars, that's not right!" Boromir began to feel like he'd done something wrong.  
  
"I'm sorry." He said, he wasn't sure what he was being sorry for, but bewilderment and confusion had long since become familiar feelings.  
  
"Oh no Boromir, don't be sorry. There's something to show the children, what happens to you when you don't eat all six meals." Six meals, well that explained a lot, Boromir had had suspicions earlier about the amount of meals a day, but he didn't think it was as many as six.  
  
"Merry! Hey! Merry!" Shouted Pippin. Merry turned around.  
  
"What is it?" He replied.  
  
"Hug Strider." Commanded Pippin. Merry did so without question. Aragorn gave Boromir a most bewildered look, whereas Boromir just began to laugh.  
  
Merry turned around, looking quite astonished. "My hands touched on the other side!" Merry ran over, dragging Aragorn by the wrist. "See for yourself!" The other three did so.  
  
"About the same as Boromir, I'd think."  
  
"No, he's a little thinner."  
  
"If anything, he's fatter."  
  
"I doesn't matter, we're going to have to fatten these two up!"  
  
"What about Legolas?"  
  
"No, I don't think it's right for an elf to be fat, it just wouldn't look right." The rest of the hobbits agreed with whoever it was that had stated their thought.  
  
"We can't fatten them up here, as much as I like them both, I'm not giving up my food for them."  
  
"No, I think this is another project for after the quest."  
  
"And it has a simple solution, we just have them stay in the Shire for a few months and there you have it, they're the right shape and Boromir knows where the best ale in all Middle-earth comes from." Aragorn and Boromir were walking silently either side of the hobbits listening to their futures being planned.  
  
"Wait," Said Merry, "If Strider's king and Boromir's his steward, would they be able to come to the Shire at the same time? Would you Strider?"  
  
"I think we'd be able to arrange it." Said Aragorn.  
  
"You would want to wouldn't you?" Checked Pippin. Boromir glanced at Aragorn and answered for the both of them.  
  
"We'd like nothing more." 


	8. A Contest of Mischief and Trickery

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 8: A Contest of Mischief and Trickery  
  
Silence was once more covering the walkers, there's only so much talking one can do each day. Pippin though, had the ability to push the limits of daily talking amounts to beyond their usual, well, limits. So, as per-usual Pippin walked up next to the nearest person and started a conversation.  
  
"Legolas," He said, "What's it like being an elf?" He was running out of ideas.  
  
"Pippin, that has got to be the worst question you have ever asked!" Said Merry.  
  
"Yes, even worse than when you asked why geese have wings." Agreed Frodo.  
  
"I asked that?" Said Pippin in disbelief, Frodo, Merry and Sam all nodded. "Well, anyway, that wasn't what I meant. I mean, when you have eternity to, erm, live, what do you do?"  
  
"I can't say for certain what it is I will do in the future, but so far in my life, I have trained and worked hard at archery and-"  
  
Pippin interrupted "Anything a little more," He paused, looking for the right word, "Interesting?"  
  
"An elf? Interesting?" Gimli chuckled quietly to himself. Legolas ignored him.  
  
"What sort of interesting things were you thinking of?" asked Legolas. Frodo skipped up to Pippin and ruffled his hair.  
  
"Remember, you're talking to Peregrin Took, he wants to know what mischief you get up to." Pippin batted Frodo away.  
  
"Mischief? I can't say we have much time for mischief at home." The hobbits sighed a little and the dwarf hmphed as though he knew all along that Elves had no sense of fun. "However, I have done a few things in my time that could be called mischievous." He flicked his long hair behind his shoulders then ran his fingers through it as a matter of habit and it caught briefly in a small knot near the bottom. Gimli snorted with some very badly concealed laughter. Legolas glared at him and went back to his story. "It was late one night a century or so ago and a few of my friends and I had just arrived back from hunting. We thought we might get ourselves a little drink to calm ourselves as it had been quite the hunt, but when we reached the cellar there were the usual barrels of wine, but also the milk for tomorrow's breakfast that had just come down from Esgaroth. We couldn't pass up the chance to create some havoc so we took one barrel of wine and shared it evenly between the barrels of milk.  
  
"After getting ourselves a small drink each we went to our beds and slept, very well. The next morning we awoke to some sounds of drunkeness, very unusual sounds so early in the day you must realise. The results of our short night's work was very humourous to say the least."  
  
"Elves can't hold their wine then?" Said Gimli rather snootily.  
  
"No, dwarf, not when the wine is twice as strong as anything dwarves can brew." Pippin decided to jump in before there was a full-blown shouting match between the two.  
  
"That's exactly what I had in mind Legolas, thank you." He looked pointedly at Gimli. "Are you going to stand up for your race? Though it's quite plain hobbits shall be the best at mischief, I'm sure the dwarves can give the elves a run for their money." Gimli pondered for a while, Legolas smiled smugly, thinking that the dwarf had nothing to tell.  
  
"Why yes young hobbit, I believe I have just the trick. Nothing grand or with any need of too much planning, simple but very effective. All you have to do is take from the victim's smoking pouch all of their weed, then find some animal droppings that you can break up and put that in their pouch in the weed's place. Next time they start to smoke you just want to be watching their face. I doubt that there is much more entertainment than a dwarf who has just smoked goat droppings." The hobbits considered the trick like judges at a competition. They looked at each other and nodded as though they had reached a decision.  
  
"Hobbits win."  
  
"Most definitely." They all agreed.  
  
"Now see here!" said Gimli, "That's hardly fair!"  
  
"Four against two, I'd say that's very fair."  
  
"No, for once the dwarf is right, you didn't even tell us your trick."  
  
"You're in a contest of trickery and mischief and you're talking about being fair? Come now, does this not seem a little strange?" Both Legolas and Gimli opened their mouths as though they were about to say something and both thought better of it. They had the same feeling that Boromir had had earlier, that if they banded together, hobbits could be a very dangerous people. The hobbits stood as tall as they could, which wasn't all that tall, but they still had the air of ones who knew how to outsmart others.  
  
"Well done Pippin!" said Merry, ruffling Pippin's hair. Pippin batted him away.  
  
"Don't you start with that hair ruffling Meriadoc!"  
  
"I only want to congratulate you on yet another addition to the list. Your third am I correct?" Pippin thought on it and nodded. Then his face brightened.  
  
"I just overtook Fatty! Unless of course he's been getting people while we're away."  
  
"The list?" asked Boromir, it wasn't hard to hear what people were saying when there was only one conversation going on. The hobbits looked at each other conspiratorially.  
  
"Well," said Frodo, "They're not the first people we've done that to."  
  
"First dwarf." Added Merry.  
  
"And second elf." Added Sam.  
  
"But not the first people." Finished Frodo. Boromir looked over at Legolas and Gimli, their faces were somewhere between baffled, amused, embarrassment and mild annoyance. It was quite the sight. Ahead of him Boromir could see Aragorn's shoulders shaking silently with laughter and he had to force down a laugh himself. If the hobbits kept this up then Legolas and Gimli may even end up tolerating each other by the end of the week.  
  
How on Middle-earth did they do it? 


	9. A Nose That Likes to Bleed

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 9: A Nose That Likes to Bleed  
  
The fellowship was walking, as usual. But the more they walked, the more Boromir found himself getting jumpy. They were out in the open and he didn't like it, never mind that they had an elf with them. Out of the corner of his eye, Boromir saw the grass move and he turned abruptly. It turned out to be a mouse. While he was turning, however, a stray hand of his had hit Merry, who was walking behind him, in the face. He hadn't realised Merry was so close as the hobbits had a natural affinity for walking almost without sound.  
  
"Merry I'm sorry!" said Boromir immediately, but Merry waved his apology aside with his hand and wiggled his nose a bit.  
  
"No no," he said, "It wasn't all that hard, my eyes aren't even watering." Boromir smiled and nodded but then stared at Merry's nose, it had started to bleed.  
  
"Merry, your nose!"  
  
"What?" Said Merry, he wiped his nose and then looked at his hand where the blood was smeared. "Oh you, you," He looked for a word strong enough to convey his annoyance, but found none. "Nose! You stupid and ridiculous nose!" He sucked the blood off his finger and tilted his head back.  
  
"Merry what are you doing?" Said Pippin as he skipped up. "Nose bleeding?"  
  
"Yes." Said Merry as best he could with his head back.  
  
"I didn't think I hit you that hard Merry, I'm sorry!" Said Boromir, distraught that he'd drawn blood.  
  
"No Boromir, don't think on it, my nose bleeds when given the slightest chance, always has."  
  
"Gandalf!" Pippin called forward, "Can we stop?"  
  
"Certainly not Peregrin! Whatever would you want to stop for?" Replied Gandalf without turning around.  
  
"Oh never mind then." Said Pippin.  
  
"Pippin, why did you want to stop?" Asked a curious Frodo. But he looked once at Merry and didn't seem to need an answer.  
  
"You're going to keep walking?" asked Boromir.  
  
"Oh yes, it's not as though I'm actually hurt, it'll stop some time soon." Merry reassured him.  
  
"Mr. Merry! Here, have a handkerchief." Sam offered Merry a pristine, white handkerchief with the initials 'SG' embroidered into the corner, which he'd pulled out of somewhere. Merry looked at it down the offending nose.  
  
"Oh no Sam, I couldn't, it's far too clean, I'll get by without it."  
  
"I'd hate to see that jacket become bloodied though, and better my handkerchief than your clothes, your clothes are always on show."  
  
"I think I've got enough experience to keep it off my clothes, thank you Sam, I got past that when I was eleven."  
  
"You've had much experience then?" Said Boromir.  
  
"Oh yes, Merry's nose has always been sensitive and prone to bleeding, I remember he couldn't get too excited when he was younger or he'd get a nosebleed." Said Frodo helpfully.  
  
"Has it stopped yet?" Pippin asked Merry.  
  
"No," Merry replied, "It's still going down my throat.  
  
"You're completely sure I didn't hurt you?" said Boromir, finding it hard to believe that it didn't hurt.  
  
"I assure you Boromir, that I am in no pain."  
  
"What are you five up to? Hurry up!" Aragorn shouted back to them.  
  
"I shall fall over if I go any faster, I can't see where I am going." Merry explained half-heartedly.  
  
"Don't worry Merry, I'll carry you, it's the least I can do for causing the problem in the first place." To think that this was all started by a mouse.  
  
"Oh Boromir, I couldn't, I'd just make you tired."  
  
"Merry!" Said Pippin sternly, "Stop trying to be brave and accept some help will you! If you don't take up that offer then I will and we'll leave you behind to struggle by yourself!"  
  
"Very well Pippin, I'll do as you say."  
  
"Oh," Pippin feigned a downhearted look, "I was rather hoping you'd let me take your place." Merry stuck his tongue out at Pippin as Boromir picked him up and carried him along. He dropped his head right back so her could see Frodo, albeit upside down.  
  
"Do I have blood on my face Frodo?"  
  
"Yes, A smear right across here." He indicated just underneath his nose to right across his cheek.  
  
"Oh bother." Said Merry and he licked his finger and began trying to clean his face off. "Here?" Frodo shook his head.  
  
"No, here." Merry attempted again. "Oh let me do it." Frodo licked his own finger and cleaned off Merry's face. "I feel as though you were ten again."  
  
"I hope not, I'd have to go through my teens again, and then my tweens!"  
  
"Hoy, the Tweens aren't that bad!" argued Pippin.  
  
"Tweens?" Asked Boromir.  
  
"Twenties." Replied Frodo.  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Merry, are you sure your nose is still bleeding?" Asked Pippin suspiciously.  
  
"Yes, of course it is." Answered Merry a little too quickly for Pippin's liking.  
  
"Then put your head up the right way."  
  
"But then I'd get blood on my clothes."  
  
"No you wouldn't, just do it." Merry sighed and obliged, The bleeding had indeed stopped.  
  
"You were using poor Boromir just so you didn't have to walk!" admonished Pippin.  
  
"You would have done the same." Murmured Merry as Boromir placed him back on his feet. Pippin tilted his head to one side in thought.  
  
"True, I would have."  
  
"Thank you, now I feel like a packhorse to be ridden freely when any hobbit feels like it."  
  
"Don't be silly Boromir," said Frodo, "You can't reach around a horse's waist." 


	10. One Rainy Day

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 10: One Rainy Day  
  
A/N: Mirielle, you prompted me into going back and correcting all mistakes in all of the chapters and adjusting them slightly. They're not changed much at all but they should all be correct now. See? I do read and take notice of reviews!  
  
The day had passed and it had been the wettest any of the hobbits could ever remember, though it may be because they were usually inside when it was raining. Hoods were drawn up, rendering the hobbits even less able to be distinguished from one another.  
  
"This mud is terrible!" Complained one of the hobbits, no one other than the hobbits seemed to know which had said it, unless Gandalf did but just didn't let on.  
  
"My feet are caked! This will take weeks to get out of my hair." Grumbled another hobbit.  
  
"Pippin! Your hair!" Came an exclamation from beneath one of the hoods.  
  
"What? What's the matter with it?"  
  
"No, not that hair, on your feet. When was the last time you brushed it?"  
  
"I brush it every morning, it just gets tangled very easily!"  
  
"Poppycock! That's not been brushed for at least a week."  
  
"It's not my fault that it's so long, I've got at least twice the amount of mud in my hair than in yours. I don't know how you can see the tangles through all this rain and mud anyway."  
  
"Frodo can sense tangles a mile off. Put him a dark room with three messy children and he'll whip a hairbrush from who-knows-where and they'll all come out with perfect hair, or as perfect as you can get it."  
  
"That's what wrong." Said Frodo as the solution dawned on him. "Sam, I trust you have some scissors?"  
  
"Of course I do Mr. Frodo."  
  
"No, Frodo, you wouldn't. You know I can't stand it! I'm always stabbed or something of the sort."  
  
"Well, if you kept your feet still then it wouldn't be so bad. Look if you don't want me to do it then I'll let Merry do it."  
  
"Merry's coming nowhere near my feet with scissors, last time he tried to cut my hair I came away with bald feet!"  
  
"It was not as bad as that."  
  
"I considered wearing shoes until my hair grew back!"  
  
"Well I'll be sober this time."  
  
"I don't care, if anyone's going to cut my hair then it's going to be Frodo. You'll still have to catch me though!" One of the small cloaked figures had trouble pulling his foot out of a hole that it had sunk into.  
  
"Blast this mud! As if it wasn't already hard enough to walk!" The taller of the fellowship would have laughed but they, excluding Legolas, were having just as much, if not more trouble. The hobbits being small and with larger feet didn't sink quite so deeply into the mud as the humans, wizard and dwarf. The elf, however, was skipping lightly on the top of the mud, much to the annoyance of the rest of the company.  
  
Aragorn's foot sunk once more deeply into the mud, becoming as annoyed as the hobbits sounded he lost his patience and yanked his foot up, leaving his boot behind. Aragorn turned and looked behind him, realisation dawning on him as the coldness of the mud enclosed around his now de-booted foot. He sighed angrily and kept his mouth shut lest some less than friendly words made their way out.  
  
"Strider! How very sensible of you, never held with boots myself either." Aragorn could tell that whichever hobbit had said that was grinning cheekily, safe in the knowledge that he couldn't be told apart from the others. Boromir, however was not so lucky. At the end of his short time of laughing he found himself at the brunt of Aragorn's pent up frustration. Aragorn gave him a push, his intention to get Boromir moving and hopefully shut him up, but as Boromir's own feet were sunk someway into the mud, Aragorn succeeded in sending his face first toward the floor.  
  
Boromir landed quite heavily, sending a wave of mud that failed in hitting only Gandalf. There was a shocked silence while Boromir pushed himself up out of the mud. This silence was broken soon enough when Aragorn yelled in surprise as four missiles of mud hit him, two on his head, one on his back and one on his rump. Then four short, cloaked figures rushed past him to help Boromir up, inquiring as to how he felt and if anything was hurt. Aragorn yanked his boot out of the mud, apologised to Boromir and would have offered his hand to him were the hobbits not blocking him.  
  
Boromir slowly rose, smiling to show that no harm was done, but then he stopped and stared. A grin soon made its way onto his face and soon he was laughing. Everyone turned to see what he was looking at and they saw the usually clear, white complexion of Legolas coated in a brown layer of mud. The rest of the fellowship began to laugh, even Gandalf failed to keep a smile from his face.  
  
"Laugh all you want but my clothes are cleaner than yours!" said Legolas indignantly. That brought Boromir back to his own situation.  
  
"Don't worry Boromir, once that's dry it'll flake right off!"  
  
"If it ever gets the chance to dry." Said Pippin as he peered up at the dark sky.  
  
"Well, standing here won't get anything dry so you'll just have to bear it for the moment." Said Gandalf. Gimli was still finding Legolas' condition quite hilarious. Legolas' arms moved faster than anyone's eyes could see and Gimli ended up with a great splat of mud right in his face.  
  
"That's enough of that I think!" Said Gandalf. The fellowship began to walk once more, the hobbits made sure to stand between Aragorn and Boromir.  
  
"Boromir," said Frodo, drawing a hairbrush out of his pack. "Would you mind terribly if I brushed your hair?" He looked upon Boromir's hair like a mother upon a mucky son.  
  
"Frodo, it's still raining, you'll only get the hairbrush muddy and wet."  
  
"Very well, I'll leave it until this confounded rain stops." Pippin began to laugh.  
  
"Whatever is it now Pippin?"  
  
"Just look at us all!" cried Pippin. The four hobbits were nearly up to their knees in mud, everyone bar Gandalf had splashes of mud all over them. Boromir's front was completely covered, Aragorn was wearing only one boot and both Legolas' and Gimli's faces were smeared with mud where they'd tried to wipe it all off. Only the hem of Gandalf's robe was muddy where it dragged on the ground. "Gandalf? Do you have some kind of spell on your clothes? For I don't see how you could have kept so clean." Gandalf smiled knowingly.  
  
"Ah, I do not meddle in the affairs of elves, dwarves, men and hobbits for they are quick to retaliate and generally quite messy." Merry sighed.  
  
"You're as bad as the elves Gandalf, what kind of answer was that?"  
  
"A wizardly one." Said Pippin, he knew from all his questioning of Gandalf what sort of answers he gave. Aragorn looked down at the hobbits.  
  
"I'm glad I'm not the only one who only understands him half of the time."  
  
"At least he can be understood when it matters." Said one of the hobbits, who had all returned to their previous position of 'anonymous people of small stature'. Aragorn smiled and nodded in agreement and trudged along, greatly looking forward to the next day's rest. 


	11. Grooming

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 10: Grooming  
  
A/N: Thankyou for that Pipkin Sweetgrass, my grammar checker thing has fun changing it all automatically, but I thought it was meant to be lower case and it confused me greatly, thanks for clearing that up.  
  
They had all finally stopped walking. Aragorn's foot was the coldest it had been for a long time, but he now had it as near to the fire as he could get it.  
  
"Strider, honestly, you get any closer to that fire and we may as well use you as fuel for it."  
  
"I don't know how you stand having such cold feet all the time." said Aragorn  
  
"We don't, we have hair, which I may add, is far better than your socks or stockings or whatever it is you wear on your feet." said Merry, who was also warming his feet next to the fire, having been mostly brushed down and dried already.  
  
"Ow! Frodo not so hard!"  
  
"Stop your moaning Boromir, you're starting to sound like Pippin!" Frodo was going through Boromir's hair with a fine-toothed comb, which never failed to get caught on all the knots, no matter how big or small.  
  
"See? Someone else agrees with me, you are far too vigorous in your brushing Frodo!" Pippin was yet to be seen to, as was Aragorn. Merry was happy in the knowledge that he was already dealt with. Frodo had decided not to interfere with Gandalf's appearance, Legolas didn't seem to need any help (being one of the only beings in the group who was neater than Frodo) and Gimli looked as though he would seriously harm anyone who came near him with a grooming implement. Sam just plain refused to have his hair brushed by his master.  
  
Pippin knew he was safe while Frodo concentrated on Boromir, Frodo could only brush one head of hair at a time after all.  
  
"Well Boromir, I think I'm nearly done," Pippin tensed. "Oh no, there's another knot."  
  
"Ow! Yes! I can feel it!" said Boromir, surprised that brushing hair could ever be so painful, it brought tears to his eyes more readily than being stabbed in the shoulder.  
  
"I'd offer for you to squeeze my hand when it hurts," said Pippin generously, "But I rather fear that I wouldn't have a hand left."  
  
"That's aaalright Piiippin." Boromir's words extended into small yells of pain when Frodo caught knots with his comb.  
  
"Don't worry Boromir, just this one knot left." upon hearing these words, Pippin decided to make himself scarce.  
  
"Excuse me, I think I'll go talk to Gimli." said Pippin quickly before slipping off.  
  
"Good cover Pippin! Very subtle." called Frodo after him.  
  
"Is this what I am now? A hobbit's excuse to keep the comb away from his hair?" said Gimli in mock disapproval.  
  
"Why of course not Gimli, I was merely prompted into starting a conversation with you that I've been wanting to have for a while," he saw Gimli's disbelieving look, "well, a few minutes now."  
  
"Very well." sighed Gimli.  
  
"Oh good, I had been wondering what your father told you about the finding of the ring, or at least what happened to him while the ring was being found. We never really heard that tale in full." So that was Pippin indisposed for a while, Gimli not being able to resist a bit of story telling.  
  
And so it was Aragorn's turn to have his hair brushed and the mud removed. He refused to move away from the fire, so Frodo went to him. Boromir marvelled at hair smoother and freer of knots than it had been in weeks, and so it should be, it had been painful enough!  
  
It wasn't long before Aragorn's face was stuck in a permanent wince.  
  
"Don't you brush your hair Strider?" Asked Merry, having become long since used to Frodo's rough treatment.  
  
"Yes, but I'm usually a little more forgiving in my handling of the brush." said Aragorn.  
  
"It'll be over before you know it." said Frodo confidently, glancing behind him to where Pippin was deeply engrossed in what Gimli had to say. "Your hair isn't as bad as Boromir's." Aragorn took his opportunity to cast a superior look over to Boromir who was now sitting on the opposite side of the fire, next to Sam, but it was ruined when Frodo caught yet another knot. Boromir laughed and tossed his hair to show that it was knot free whereas Aragorn's still had a little way to go.  
  
But before long Pippin was the only one left to be treated by Frodo. He had nowhere left to hide.  
  
Aragorn was twiddling his hair between his fingers, happy with how it had turned out. Merry knocked his arm.  
  
"Honestly Strider, you're worse than Angelica Baggins." Aragorn surmised that Angelica Baggins was not one to be worse than and so stopped his fiddling.  
  
"Nothing from you about my family Meriadoc, there's a good deal to say about the Brandybucks you know!"  
  
"Even Bilbo admitted it!" argued Merry.  
  
"Bilbo was a Baggins himself though, that's different."  
  
"Typical Bagginses logic." Merry grumbled. Frodo decided to let it go, he had a Took to catch. Unfortunately for him Pippin was watching him like a hawk. Fortunately for him, Pippin was outnumbered three to one.  
  
"You need help?" asked Aragorn.  
  
"No, this needs a special skill and years of practice." answered Merry knowledgeably. Boromir noticed that Sam had silently left his side and was creeping around without Pippin's knowing. The whole camp tensed without realising. Pippin was glancing around, but mainly looking at Frodo, who was staring intently back, Sam was somewhere in the shadows of the trees and Merry was ready to run at the slightest movement.  
  
Suddenly the camp came to life. Sam burst out of the darkness, causing Pippin to bolt and Frodo to dart for him. Frodo missed and Pippin continued onwards, towards Merry. Merry leaped.  
  
"Got him! Quick! Help! Oh no, too late, he's gone." Pippin obviously had twisting out of a grip perfected and it would take a mumak sitting on him to keep him still. There was any amount of rushing around and diving from the hobbits and ducking and moving limbs out of the way from the rest of the company. Until:  
  
"Yes! Grab his other ankle Sam!" Frodo was nearly lifted from the ground, holding on to the ankle of a Pippin who had made his way half way up a tree. Sam secured the second ankle and together they dragged Pippin down, moaning all the way.  
  
"First things first, hold his feet still." commanded Frodo. Sam leaned with nearly his full weight onto Pippin's feet while Frodo whipped out the scissors and comb. Merry held Pippin's top half. There didn't seem to be any point though, Pippin was resigned to his fate, his eyes shut tight, his only moving was the flinch when he heard the scissors snip. Frodo, for his part, worked quickly. And soon Pippin's feet were neat and tidy. Then Frodo moved onto his head.  
  
"Is that not a slight overreaction to a bad haircut?" inquired Boromir.  
  
"Not just a bad haircut, I've been stabbed in the foot by scissors countless times, Frodo's the only one who can cut around my twitching and squirming. Everyone else," He paused as Frodo tugged on his hair. "Everyone else manages to cut my feet as well and I've developed quite a fear of it." He took a sharp breath in through his teeth as Frodo succeeded in removing a knot and a clump of mud.  
  
"Well, your feet certainly look well-groomed." commented Boromir.  
  
"Thank you." said Pippin. Frodo seemed to be being harsher, yet quicker with Pippin's hair. Either it was a habit he'd developed from when Pippin couldn't sit for longer than ten minutes or it was his own form of revenge for all the trouble Pippin had ever caused him. So it wasn't too long before Frodo released Pippin and he was able to get up and dust himself down. Frodo looked him up and down approvingly.  
  
"We may well make a Thain out of you yet!" 


	12. Complaints

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 12: Complaints  
  
A/N: Mirielle, I wrote the last chapter late at night, thinking everything was fine and dandy and posted it, only to read it next morning and find that Bilbo had joined the fellowship and I had no time to change it before school. I'm flattered that you think mine is a good story, but, for the sake of keeping my head at its proper size, I'm sure there are better ones out there somewhere.  
  
Kat-mle, I'm interested as to know what kind of childhood trauma would lead to obsessive neatness.  
  
Everyone, I am sorry to say that, if I don't have a sudden spark of inspiration, the next chapter may well be the last. You know that I'll be thinking hard about new ideas though. Anyway, you're here to read the story, so here it is:  
  
"Gandalf." Pippin moaned, as he had throughout most of the journey, "My feet hurt."  
  
"What am I supposed to do about that?" asked Gandalf sharply over his shoulder.  
  
"I don't know, you're the wizard not me, I thought you were meant to be wise!"  
  
"I may be wise, but that does not mean I can work miracles!"  
  
Boromir wondered at, as it seemed to him, Pippin's bravery talking to the Istari in such a way. He inclined his head to Merry, who was walking next to him.  
  
"He's spoilt." said Merry before Boromir had even drawn breath to speak. "He's the youngest son of a wealthy family and only heir to the Thainship, he's bound to be spoilt."  
  
"But I thought that you were the youngest, well, only son of a rich family." said Boromir, frowning slightly, hoping that he hadn't muddled the hobbits up again, he was becoming quite proud of his abilities to tell them apart.  
  
"Yes, but I am the youngest of the Brandybuck family, a well-respected family of high esteem who manage to refrain from spoiling their children as readily as the Tooks." said Merry proudly.  
  
"Says the one who didn't have to grow up with the most spoilt hobbit in the history of the Shire." Said Frodo as he strolled up beside them, keeping an eye on Pippin's ongoing argument. "Frodo, I want that wooden block!" he said in an imitation of Merry's childish voice. "No Frodo, not that one, THAT one! Frodo, give it here! Frodo you're a horrid cousin!"  
  
"I never said that!"  
  
"I assure you that you did. Look, next time you see Bilbo, you ask him, he was there!"  
  
"Perhaps I was just in a bad mood when I visited you."  
  
"Every time? You always ended up saying it one way or another. At least Pippin said thank you when you gave him what he wanted."  
  
"Well, Frodo, perhaps you were a horrid cousin."  
  
"Yes Merry, I'm sure I was." Boromir smiled at the hobbit's small argument. It sounded like a tired aunt talking to a young... how could he put it, spoilt child.  
  
"Pippin," said Aragorn, finally becoming tired of his moaning, "As much as I care for you and your feet, could you please just not mention them again for at least another hour."  
  
"Oh but Strider, if you don't complain then you'll never get anything you want the way you want it." replied Pippin.  
  
"Pippin, you can't always have everything the way you want it."  
  
"But it can't hurt to try though. Can it?" asked Pippin, genuinely interested.  
  
"That depends upon the patience of your travelling companions."  
  
There was a short silence.  
  
"Strider?"  
  
"Yes Pippin?"  
  
"Surely you're tired?"  
  
"Not particularly."  
  
"You can't be completely and utterly comfortable as though you've been lying in your bed for a week."  
  
"Of course not, I have an itchy patch of dry skin on my finger that won't go away, but I don't complain because no one can do anything about it."  
  
"It's not possible to be perfectly comfortable while you're travelling." joined Boromir, "For example my lips are dry, cracked and bleeding but-"  
  
"They are?" said Pippin, surprised, "Why didn't you say? Let me have a look," Pippin made Boromir get down on his knees and inspected his lips. "Boromir, these are in terrible condition, you should have said something sooner." he turned back towards Gandalf and called to him, "See Gandalf? These people are suffering in silence! Strider and his finger – stop scratching it, you won't make it any better that way - and Boromir with his lips. There are bound to be some more!" said Pippin, looking around.  
  
"Well, I did get a thorn in my foot." admitted Merry quietly.  
  
"You see Gandalf? Merry even got a thorn- Merry, wherever did you get a thorn from?"  
  
"I was looking for a private place away from you to do my business in!" said Merry with a smile on his face.  
  
"Fine. Legola-"Before Pippin had even finished his name, he realised that Legolas was not likely to have any complaints. "Erm, Gimli?"  
  
"No." said Gimli almost immediately. "Nothing big enough to make a fuss about."  
  
"Oh Gimli." said Pippin, shaking his head, "Everything is big enough to make a fuss about. Come on."  
  
"Well, I must admit that my boots are pinching a little."  
  
"Always said boots were useless." said Pippin quietly to himself, "So we have Strider's finger, Boromir's lips – stop picking at them Boromir – Merry's thorn and Gimli's boots. Anyone else?" Pippin looked expectantly around at the rest of the fellowship. "Sam, I saw you stub your toe, that must have hurt."  
  
"Well of course it did."  
  
"Does it still?" Sam lowered his head and said as quietly as he could,  
  
"Yes." he didn't like being apart of Pippin's argument against Gandalf.  
  
"And Frodo?" Pippin turned to look at Frodo. "Oh you just have to look at him to see it, he's in constant pain from his terrible burden."  
  
"I may not participate in wrestling very often but it doesn't mean I can't when I'm pushed!" warned Frodo. Pippin smiled and turned to face Gandalf's back once more.  
  
"That's seven out of nine people in pain Gandalf, what do you say to that?" Pippin was getting a little cocky.  
  
"What do I say to that?" The tone in Gandalf's voice made seven members of the fellowship glad that they were not Pippin and one member not so happy that he was. "What I say, Peregrin Took, is that I have a complaint of my own, after wandering Middle-earth for thousands of years, I have yet to find a creature that can so readily get on my nerves as you!" Frodo thought to himself that a five-year-old Merry would be close competition, but refrained from saying anything.  
  
And for once, Pippin was perfectly silent. 


	13. The Pleasures of the Pipe

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 13: The Pleasures of the Pipe  
  
A/N: I have ideas once more! And From here on, if I use your ideas, then I thank you for them in advance. And thanks to those whose ideas I will not use. But please excuse me, I must go to bed.  
  
The fellowship was forced to stop walking earlier than usual. Legolas had scouted ahead and found no other suitable campsite for a few leagues. So the hobbits found themselves settling down to an early night, or day as it happened. But to their surprise, they were not a tired as they thought they would be and found themselves without anything to do while they waited for sleep to show itself in them or at least produce a yawn.  
  
Pippin, being more prone to boredom than anyone else, was searching for something to do. Finding no subject he could think of to talk about for a good length of time, he got his pack out. It was so heavy, it may as well have something useful in it, he reasoned.  
  
He dug down past a few changes of clothes, past a truant jar of pickled onions and gherkins, right to the bottom where his hand found something long, round and smooth. It intrigued him, for even though he had packed everything himself he couldn't remember packing anything like what he now had in his hand. He pulled it out as best he could without disturbing too much else and took it to the campfire to get a better look at it, for it wasn't too bright yet.  
  
It was a pipe, not the kind you smoke with, Pippin would have recognised that the moment his hand brushed over it, but a musical one. It was very basic, carved out of wood by one of his uncles when he was young. He blew it to clear it out, it didn't give a bad sound.  
  
"What do you have there Mister Pippin?" asked Sam, who happened to be sitting next to him.  
  
"Just something I found in my pack, I've not played it for a while and I barely remember bringing it with me." Sam's eyes lit up at the prospect of some music. As much as Sam loved elves and as lovely as Legolas' voice was, not that lovely really covered it, he was excited at the prospect of hearing something truly hobbity.  
  
"Play something! Go on!" Urged Sam.  
  
"Yes yes," said Pippin distractedly as he placed his fingers over the holes, trying to remember a tune he could play. He decided to start with something easy.  
  
The whole camp was woken out of its reverie. Any small conversations there were stopped as Pippin's jaunty little tune floated over them. Sam and Merry jumped up with a cheer and bowed to each other, as one does before one dances. Pippin had a hard time to stop himself from laughing as he had to keep playing. Frodo though, was free to laugh and soon began to clap in time with the music.  
  
Sam and Merry began what seemed to be a well-practised piece of choreography. They were twisting and turning around each other, all thoughts of class and status forgotten. At times they would be swinging each other about and they'd side step around the campfire. Soon enough everyone was clapping Sam and Merry on, laughing with them if either one of the tripped or stumbled, even the fire danced merrily with them. But soon they collapsed in a heap next to Frodo.  
  
"So soon?" said Frodo cheekily, playfully pushing a panting Merry. Pippin also looked a little out of breath and got himself a long drink. "Well, I don't think you two should be the only ones to dance." Frodo looked at the rest of the fellowship, challenging them all to have a go. Legolas hopped down from the tree he was sitting in, if a hobbit could dance like that, than an elf of far more practise should have no trouble. He volunteered himself. "Good, thank you Legolas!"  
  
This prompted Gimli into accepting. Whatever an elf could do, a dwarf could do better and he was determined to prove it. The next to accept was Gandalf, already knowing a few hobbit dances. That left Aragorn and Boromir. Now they were outnumbered and felt obliged to join in.  
  
"Good!" said Frodo, rubbing his hands together with glee and in anticipation of the fun to come. "Legolas, I think you should be partnered with... Gimli!" said Frodo, knowing full well how much they disliked each other. The two men gasped, but saw what fun it could be and chuckled. "Strider shall go with Gandalf and Boromir, you shall be my partner!" Boromir felt privileged to be the one dancing with the hobbit, or teacher would perhaps be a better way to describe him. "Right! Stand opposite your partners and hold hands, like so," Frodo took hold of both of Boromir's hands. "We're going to be short and simple so no fancy twiddly bits Pippin!" Boromir never realised Frodo could be quite so bossy.  
  
"Oh Frodo, that's no fun!" complained Pippin.  
  
"Very well then, no twiddly bits yet. Anyway, back to the dance. Everyone holding hands?"  
  
"Gimli, Legolas can't hold your hands if you've got them clasped behind your back!" said Merry from where he was lying on the floor, recovering. Gimli grudgingly took Legolas' hands.  
  
"Good," continued Frodo. "Now, you put your foot out to the side, toe up, that's right."  
  
"Other foot Strider!" came the helpful comment from the three sitting on the floor. Strider righted himself.  
  
"Now you point your toe to the floor. Yes. Heel on the floor again, then toe, heel, toe. That's right!" Frodo looked pleased with himself. "Now we gallop down to the other side of the camp. Come on Boromir." He and Boromir skipped sideways, "I can't go that fast Boromir! You'll have to do smaller gallops. Now, everyone else,"  
  
"Legolas, take his hands again! You can't keep dropping them halfway through the dance!"  
  
"Thank you Merry, now everyone else, gallop, gallop, gallop, gallop." Everyone 'galloped' so that they were level with Boromir and Frodo. "You do the heel toe move again and gallop back," Frodo, along with the rest of the dancer 'galloped' again. The three sitting on the floor were in hysterics. "Shut up you three!" said Frodo in annoyance. "Now, you take your right hand, no your right Boromir, not my right,"  
  
"Other hand Strider!" shouted Merry with glee.  
  
"And you clap them with your partner's hand three times." there was a small amount of out-of-time clapping. "So that's right right right. Now you do the same but with your other hand, left left left. And now you clap your hands on your knees three times, knees knees knees."  
  
"Your knees Strider, not Gandalf's!" the three hobbits burst into more fits of giggles and Aragorn joined with them.  
  
"Strider! Pay attention! Now, where was I?"  
  
"Being a perfectionist?" offered Merry. Frodo glared at him.  
  
"Ah yes, now we clap both hands with each other three times again."  
  
"He said with each other Legolas, Gimli!" the two were obviously trying to reduce the amounts of possible physical contact, and failing miserably.  
  
"So that's together together together," mumbled Frodo to himself. "So now we swing our partners round and round!" All three pairs grasped hands and swung each other around, Gimli and Legolas were being a little more vigorous than the others. "And then we start again!" said Frodo pointedly, "See? I said it was going to be short and simple." Everyone walked back to their original positions going over what they had just learned in their minds, there was quite a bit of mumbling and quiet clapping. "Pippin! Music!" said Frodo suddenly and the three pairs jumped into their starting positions.  
  
They let Pippin play for a little while, getting the feel of the music. Sam and Merry began clapping.  
  
"One, two, three, four" shouted Frodo, counting them in and he carried on shouting instructions. They all managed to gallop without any accidents but it came to the clapping and Frodo was the only one sure of what he was doing. Gandalf and Strider began prematurely swinging each other around and Gimli and Legolas managed to get into a mini-argument about which order the claps came in. The music ended with a painful squeak when Pippin was no longer able to keep his laughter bottled up.  
  
"It's right, then left, then knees, then together!" said Frodo. Gimli grumbled something and Legolas gained an air of superiority. They went over that part a few more times. "Everyone got it now?" there was a murmur of agreement and they walked their way back to the beginning. Sam and Merry decided to join them.  
  
They waited in silence for a moment before Pippin played his tune. There was a little foot tapping and Frodo counted them in once more. This time they managed to get through it once, and then once more. By the third time Gandalf, Aragorn, Merry and Sam were having small gallop-races wherever they could and by the sixth time through, Pippin was barely playing the same tuned, he had ornamented it and embellished it so much. This prompted everyone to just begin improvising and between them they came up with some very interesting moves.  
  
Until Legolas tripped over Gimli. Frodo and Boromir were spinning too fast to stop and landed on top of them. The four of them started laughing and it spread to the rest of the fellowship until Pippin had to stop playing again and everyone was on the floor, some were even crying with laughter; something they had not done for far too long.  
  
It took quite a while, but when they finally did calm down, the dancing had done its job and they were ready to go to bed. The hobbits climbed into their bedrolls and called to the rest of the fellowship,  
  
"Good-day!" something they developed to say at bedtime when 'goodnight' became untruthful.  
  
"Good-day!" replied the rest of the fellowship as they too retreated into their beds. All save Gandalf, whose turn it was to watch. He sat and lit his pipe, though the smile did not move from his lips for a good long while. 


	14. Footwear: Part I

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 14: Footwear: Part I  
  
A/N: kat-mle: keep your hair on! I'm getting to it!  
  
Heart of flame: I hoped I would trick someone, don't worry it worked on one of my friends too. *insert evil laughter here*  
  
Ice Ember: Random LotR facts are always good, though I did already know that one (go me!)  
  
Everyone else: Thank you for your wonderful ideas and encouragement (nothing like praise to keep a writer writing) you may have noticed this is a two-parter, though truth be told its because I can't write it all tonight. But don't complain, it's either half now or all in another week or so, teachers are wanting in homework before the Easter holidays and I've got homework building up from up to a year ago (I'm not the best at organisation). Enough of my troubles, read and enjoy!  
  
~~~  
  
Pippin, in all his inquisitiveness, had taken his chance at investigating something that had been nagging at his mind for a few days now. The group were resting, not for a meal, just a quick stop on their way south and Aragorn had taken the chance to remove his boots and rest his feet quickly, leaving the boots open to curious hobbit hands such as Pippin's. Pippin had seldom seen more than a rain-boot that some hobbits he knew wore in wet weather, which he could completely understand, it kept mud out of the hair for one thing. He didn't understand why anyone would want to wear the things all day though.  
  
He turned the boot upside down and looked at the sole, then compared it to his own foot. The boot was harder, but more encrusted with dirt than his foot. You could tread in any amount of horse dung before you realised anything was amiss while you were wearing one of these, or even a pair.  
  
He then turned it back upright and studied the creased leather of the ankle, he was glad his ankle didn't look as bad as that; it was like a seventy-year-old's ankle. He then peered into the darkness inside of the boot. What was it like in there? Was it soft and comfy? Was it sweaty? Did it smell? He tentatively sniffed. Well, at least his last question was answered! It smelt like blue cheese which had been left out in the sun with perhaps a few rotten eggs just for potency.  
  
Pippin gagged and then began to cough, trying to think of things like roses and lavender to keep away the memory of the smell that brief sniff had brought him.  
  
"Pippin! What is it? What have you done?" Merry sidled over from where he had been sitting a few yards away, taking no notice of Pippin at all. Pippin held the boot out to him and whether by chance or design, the smell reached him too. "Whose is that?" said Merry in disgust.  
  
"Aragorn's," choked Pippin, "I didn't think it would ever be that bad, it makes some compost heaps smell of roses in comparison." Aragorn finally realised, having looked all around for it, where his stray boot had got itself.  
  
"Would you mind giving me my boot back?" said Aragorn.  
  
"Oh no, please take it! Who would've thought that," Pippin stopped in his tracks, his mind slowly processing the unthinkable. "Do your feet smell like that?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like your boot."  
  
"You smelt my boot?"  
  
"I was just curious about your boots, like why you wear them, I've not found any redeeming features. They give you an extra piece of clothing to clean, they look, frankly, quite odd, they make your footsteps ten times louder than they should be and they make your feet smell!"  
  
"What's good about any of that?" added Merry on the end, if just to show his support for Pippin's argument.  
  
"You've missed the main point of boots, they protect our feet!"  
  
"But surely if you were to never wear boots then you'd develop hard skin like ours." Merry tapped the sole of his foot to prove the point.  
  
"But what of the time between while our feet are not so hard when we are cutting out feet on every small stone?"  
  
"You'd just have to grin and bear it wouldn't you?" said Pippin as though that settled the matter and he had proved beyond all doubt that boots were essentially useless.  
  
"They keep out feet warm." said Boromir, joining the conversation with a very good point.  
  
"Ah, yes, there is that," said Pippin.  
  
"And don't forget that they keep our toes from being stubbed." said from the far side of the camp, he tapped the toe of his boot with the axe he was cleaning. "I'd like to see you do that with bare feet!" Merry and Pippin looked rather defeated.  
  
"But have you seen the things you walk into the house? Meaning no disrespect to you Gandalf, but there's always more mud on the floor when you come to stay." said Sam, something that only someone who cleaned floors regularly would spot. Merry and Pippin nodded fiercely in agreement though they couldn't say much to support it, having never had boot wearers in their own homes.  
  
"Very true," said Frodo, "And what about when your foot is trodden on by a booted foot? I can tell you that's not a very comfortable affair." Here Frodo looked at Aragorn. "The heel of a boot is especially painful." Aragorn mumbled something. Possibly along the lines of an apology, but only he and Legolas would ever know.  
  
"I have an idea that should end your discussion." Everyone turned to face Gandalf. "I have always found that you have to experience things to get a real insight into them." A smile appeared on Gandalf's face that no one else quite liked the look of. "Why don't you all swap your footwear?"  
  
"We can't wear nothing on our feet!" burst out Boromir indignantly.  
  
"We can't wear those on our feet!" burst out Pippin at exactly the same time. Then they turned to each other and locked eyes, a challenge passed silently between them. Boromir removed his boots and threw them at Pippin, who caught one and jumped out of the way of the other.  
  
Gimli stood up and removed his boots also, his dwarvish pride swelling inside of him, he would not be out done by a man, no more than he would be out done by an elf. Seeing this, Legolas threw his boots into the growing pile at Pippin's feet. Gandalf turned his gaze towards Aragorn,  
  
"Well?" he said. Aragorn sighed and threw his boots into the pile as well.  
  
"I can't wear all of these at once!" exclaimed Pippin as he sorted through the boots and dug out the partner to the one he already held in his hand. The other three hobbits looked at each other and a great cry went up from the three of them,  
  
"Dibs on Legolas'!" they yelled as they dived for the light green boot just peeking out from under Aragorn's boot. Sam emerged victorious, shaking one of Merry's hand off his hard won prize as Frodo sneakily grabbed Gimli's pair in the confusion. Merry did not like the choice he was left with.  
  
"I am not wearing those! Have you smelt them? Do you... do you know what they'll... what they'll do to... oh fine! I'll wear them!" Merry picked up the offending boots and stormed off.  
  
Then ensued many minutes of small frustrated sounds of hobbits trying to fit their feet into boots. Sam finished first, then Frodo. They were closely followed by Pippin, who stared at his feet in confusion.  
  
"These boots feel awfully odd, more odd than I would imagine they should that is."  
  
"You've got them the wrong way around."  
  
"I've got them what?"  
  
"They should go on the other feet."  
  
"You mean that I have to take them off and put them back on again?" the boot-wearing portion of the fellowship nodded and Pippin sighed loudly.  
  
Merry finished at long last, having spent the first few minutes hesitating and wondering if the argument was really worth this. And so finally the hobbits were all booted up. They stood and looked at each other, the rest of the fellowship tried to restrain their laughter, the hobbits did not look happy.  
  
Their feet fit quite well into the boots, what were now Pippin's boots were a little too large for him, but he'd rather them than the pair Merry was wearing. The part that made them look ridiculous, aside from the fact that any footwear looks odd on a hobbit, was that all of the boots reached to their knees. Frodo stomped his feet.  
  
"These are really heavy Gimli!" he said in awe.  
  
"These aren't." said Sam happily, he was very pleased with his selection of boot. The material they were made from made it so that if he didn't look at his feet or think about it, he forgot he was wearing anything on his feet at all. "I'll swap with you sir if you don't think you could make it." Sam didn't really want to give up his boots, but he didn't want to see Frodo getting unnecessarily tired.  
  
"Oh no Sam, you know me, I like a good challenge!" Having thoroughly studied their own feet, the hobbits turned their attentions to the now bare feet of their companions. They stared.  
  
"Is there something wrong with our feet?" inquired Boromir.  
  
"Oh no they're perfectly good..." started Pippin.  
  
"...If only a little pale..." continued Merry.  
  
"...And not to mention bald." finished Frodo. Sam looked as though he was battling with himself, trying to decide whether or not to say something. He decided to just come out with it and say it.  
  
"Especially you Legolas." he said very quietly, though loud enough for everyone to hear.  
  
Everyone looked at Legolas' feet, Gimli snorted. Legolas was gob-smacked, it was very possibly the first time anyone had ever done anything other than tell him how perfect and elf-like he looked. It had never occurred to him before that to some races elf-like may not be the vision of beauty it seemed to be among men.  
  
"Well," said Gandalf, pleased with his work, "I think we've lingered here long enough." And with that they started walking again. 


	15. Footwear: Part II

While they Walked  
  
Chapter 15: Footwear: Part II  
  
A/N: I'm sorry to say I'll be gone for another week, but this is a nice long chapter to keep you going. I've also noticed that I have never before mentioned Bill the pony in this fic, I am ashamed and sorry, he has one mention in this chapter, he was only being led along quietly in previous chapters, by whoever it was convenient for him to be led by. Thank you all for your reviews and I'll be expecting lots more when I get back (From Dorset of all exciting places in the world, no offence if you're from Dorset).  
  
"I'm sure there's something wrong with these things." said Merry for the umpteenth time. "Surely they're not meant to be this uncomfortable." He frowned at his feet.  
  
"They're not meant for hobbit feet, that might be it." offered Boromir. The section of the fellowship not wearing the shoes, and Gandalf, had certainly got the best deal so far. They were walking over surprisingly soft grass without so much as a thistle.  
  
"No there's something in my boot."  
  
"Your foot?" said Pippin without quite as much humour as the comment required. He was annoyed with his boots because they were too big for him and he kept tripping over them.  
  
"Something other than my foot." said Merry with even less humour. It seemed that hobbits were only so light of heart because they wore nothing on their feet. Frodo was having trouble with Gimli's overly heavy boots, as parts were reinforced with iron and even Sam seemed to be suffering from the lack of contact with the grass.  
  
"You four look so gloomy! Cheer up or- OW!" The four hobbits looked up to find Boromir hopping around on one foot. They cheered up.  
  
"What's the matter Boromir?" asked Merry. Boromir looked down at where he'd just trodden and then at his foot, it was bleeding. The hobbits also looked at where he'd just trodden.  
  
"A bramble drew blood?" asked Frodo in amazement, indeed, it was a bramble shoot that had been sent away from the main plant and crawled along the ground.  
  
"Almost as if the plant wanted to catch unwary walkers with no boots." observed Legolas.  
  
"There IS something in my boot! Listen!" cried Merry and everyone stopped walking to listen as Merry shook his foot, the only noise was Boromir still trying to gain his balance. There was a lot of rattling, like something hard hitting leather.  
  
"Ah," said Aragorn knowingly.  
  
"What?" said Merry sharply. Aragorn smiled smugly. The four hobbits advanced towards him, they looked threatening but Aragorn couldn't think of anything they could possibly threaten him with and so still withheld his information.  
  
"Aragorn?" pushed Merry, but he still said nothing. To the hobbits' credit though, they were succeeding in making Aragorn very uncomfortable, they looked like they had something Aragorn didn't know about, as though they could make him succumb to their will, and they were getting closer. Yes, he was definitely worried now, these were not the same hobbits as they had been a minute or two earlier. "What's wrong with my boot Aragorn?" said Merry and Aragorn seriously considered telling him, but then he remembered who he was. He'd lived in Rivendell for as long as he could remember and had learnt from the elves, what could four people half his size do? Though four people half his size did make two people the same size as him.  
  
Too late, he had thought about it for too long and the hobbits unleashed upon him their most potent weapon. It needed no sword, no spear, no bow, just their fingers. They tickled his mercilessly, they brought him to the ground and no matter where he rolled there was another pair of hands to find the most ticklish spots that he didn't even know he had. Never had he been tickled like this before, he was laughing and laughing but oh how he wished they would stop and suddenly, they did. Merry's face poked into Aragorn's view, misted as it was with tears.  
  
"Would you like to tell me what's gone wrong with my boots now?" Gimli, Legolas and Boromir looking on were quite glad they hadn't made any suggestion that they knew what was wrong.  
  
"Just- just take your boot off and tip the stone out." said Aragorn through the remnants of the laughter.  
  
"A stone? Is that it? Very well, but if I find that you're not telling the truth and are only doing this to annoy me, well then, our fingers aren't tired yet are they?" there was a general agreement from the rest of the hobbits. Merry took off his boot and tipped it up slowly, out rolled a small pebble. Not satisfied with that, Merry continued tipping it, out rolled another pebble, followed by another and another until at last a large, sharp stone fell out. Merry shook the boot out, just to check that there was no more.  
  
"You had five stones in your boot?" cried Legolas in a rare moment of astonishment. "I'm surprised there was room for your foot!"  
  
"No wonder it was uncomfortable!" added Gimli. Aragorn slowly staggered back to his feet, still grinning like a fool. Seeing as Boromir and Aragorn had both recovered, the company continued on their journey until:  
  
"Oh confound and confusticate these boots!" said Pippin from his new position sprawled on the floor. "I can't stay upright for more than half a mile!"  
  
"Confusticate?" said Frodo, "How long have you been saying confusticate for? That's one of Bilbo's phrases."  
  
"Just a moment," said Pippin to give himself time to climb back to his feet, "I think I may have spent a little too much time around Bilbo while in Rivendell. I was only eleven when he left, I wanted to get to know him."  
  
"So that's where you were all those times I couldn't find you! In Bilbo's room!" said Merry.  
  
"Well, not really in Bilbo's room, mostly walking through the gardens, then sneaking off to the kitchens to get ourselves a little snack," said Pippin with a grin. "Speaking of gardens Sam, he said they never managed to get a flowerbed quite as homely as the ones at Bag E-"Pippin once again lost his balance when he failed to lift his foot high enough of the ground. "Blast these boots!" he yelled.  
  
"Did Mister Bilbo really say that?" said Sam, blushing with pride, Pippin nodded, "Oh the Gaffer will be pleased when I tell him!" Pippin was pleased with his work, that was Sam in a good mood for a while, perhaps he would allow him some more rations next time they stopped.  
  
"Is that water I hear ahead?" inquired Legolas.  
  
"Certainly is," replied Gandalf, "Just a small stream, we will ford it when we meet it and then follow it as it turns southwards."  
  
"We are fording a stream?" said Gimli, slightly worried.  
  
"That is what I said."  
  
"Will not the bed be stony?" said Gimli even more worried.  
  
"Most likely."  
  
"Our feet will be cut to shreds! We should have our boots back now, otherwise you shall have four injured walkers and we will be of no use."  
  
"You shall not have your boots back, you have hardly experience the hardships that the hobbits have, this grass is soft and good for walking on in bare feet."  
  
"How would you know? You're still wearing your boots." retorted Gimli in a moment of short temper.  
  
"I have my reasons Gimli, for one, I did not partake in the argument." now Gimli had started down this road, he thought he may as well continue with it.  
  
"Nor did Legolas!"  
  
"Did I specifically ask any of you to volunteer your boots? As far as I remember – and I do believe my memory to be as good as any of yours – I merely suggested the idea, I pushed none of you into it, you chose of your own free will." Gimli grumbled an answer but no one either heard or understood, a few suspected that he wasn't speaking in the common tongue and he wasn't.  
  
Pippin carefully sped up his walk so he could talk to Merry.  
  
"Are your feet sweaty?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Yes," replied Merry.  
  
"Good, I thought I might be the only one." they had obviously not spoken quietly enough though, for Frodo came up behind them.  
  
"You feet are sweaty?" he said with no little amount of disgust in his voice. The pair nodded ashamedly.  
  
"Thank the heavens, I'm glad it's the same for you two."  
  
"And what a horrid feeling it is!"  
  
"What's a horrid feeling?" asked Sam as he caught up to them.  
  
"Sweaty feet, do you have them?"  
  
"Can't say that I do, but I think that's something to do with the type o' boot"  
  
"Yes Sam, you're probably right." The other three hobbits looked longingly at Sam's boots.  
  
"Sam," said Pippin in his silkiest voice. "You wouldn't mind swapping would y-"he stumbled again.  
  
"No Mister Pippin, not if it means I'll be doing that every ten minutes."  
  
"Oh well, it was worth a tr-"He stumbled again. "For the sake of all that is green and good in this world! STOP TRIPPING ME UP!" he yelled at his boots. Pippin decided to take his frustration out on an innocent stone and he kicked it as hard as he could. The stone went flying, along with his boot. Pippin stared at the boot as it reached the peak of its arc and began its decent back to the ground, but a tree interfered with its path on the way down. And so it was that one half of Pippin's pair of boots found itself hanging precariously on one of the top branches of a tree.  
  
"Good kick Pippin." observed Merry. Aragorn sniggered and was rewarded with one of Pippin's fieriest glares. After a moment of gathering himself together, Pippin, with a forced calmness, began picking stones from the floor. He came to the tree in which his boot was stuck and began throwing the stones up at it, his intention being to knock it out but it only slid further onto the branch. He snorted like an enraged bull but managed to control himself enough to ask help from Frodo.  
  
"Could you give me a leg-up into the tree please Frodo?" Pippin checked each and every word as it came out of his mouth, lest something less than polite made its way through.  
  
"I could get it for you." offered Legolas.  
  
"No!" said Pippin curtly, "Thankyou Legolas," he added as an afterthought. Frodo clasped his hands together and Pippin put his foot on them, they were both well practised with this procedure, as it was not the first thing Pippin had lost up a tree. Frodo boosted Pippin up to the first branch, which he scrambled on to, his booted foot being much less helpful than his other one. Then he began his climb up through the branches.  
  
Around halfway up Pippin's remaining boot began to slip off, either because of sweat, or just because it was too big. Pippin chose not to pull it back on, but instead shook it off. It fell back down to earth, bouncing off branches on the way. A few moments later he heard an exclamation of pain and a muffled swear from one the men, he hoped it was Boromir, that would make him pay for having such ridiculously large boots.  
  
He finally reached the top and pulled the boot off the branch, he decided not to let it fall because there were lots of other branches for it to catch on. He also didn't want to risk it landing on Gandalf's head.  
  
In a short while he dropped back down to the ground with the boot firmly wedged under his arm. He was pleased to see that it was Boromir rubbing his head. The other three hobbits were still trying to fight down their laughter.  
  
"Boots back on Pippin!" said Gandalf.  
  
"Alright, alright! Give me a chance!" said Pippin; he was in no mood to be hurried along by Gandalf. Boromir threw the boot at him, a little harder than was required and Pippin slipped them back on.  
  
They were walking again. Soon the sound of running water became apparent and it wasn't long before they came to the place the walkers without boots had been dreading. Sure enough, there was the stream, and the shallow crossing with many stones and pebbles, most looked smoothed by the water, but on the banks they looked sharp and unforgiving.  
  
Gandalf strode across first, followed closely by the hobbits (Sam leading Bill the pony), who then turned to watch the other four make their way across.  
  
"Come along, it's not that bad!" called Merry across the stream.  
  
"Not that bad for you maybe," said Gimli.  
  
Legolas was the first to cross, and just as he had walked over the mud, he walked lightly over the top of the stones, barely moving them.  
  
"Good," said Gandalf as Legolas reached the grass, "You can have your boots back once your feet dry." At these words Sam tore the boots from his feet and handed them to Legolas, he sighed happily and wiggled his toes in the grass. Legolas looked a little off-put at Sam's eagerness to rid himself of the boots.  
  
"Sorry Mister Legolas, it's not that your boots weren't comfortable, I just like the feel of the earth under my feet and between my toes." Legolas smiled.  
  
"I understand Sam."  
  
Upon seeing that the crossing of the rest of the fellowship meant they need never wear those boots again, the hobbits began encouraging the others across in earnest.  
  
"Come on Gimli!" called Frodo, "Legolas just did it!" upon hearing that, the dwarf puffed out his chest and walked proudly across the stream, though his overall look wasn't so impressive as he was wincing quite often.  
  
"Gimli doesn't even look in pain Aragorn! It can't hurt that much!" lied Merry, but it did the trick. Unfortunately for Pippin, Aragorn wasn't quite as good at hiding the pain as Gimli was and so Boromir started picking his way slowly across, studying the bed of the stream to find somewhere where the stones were all worn smooth by the flow of water. Pippin became inpatient, he was tired of his boots now and to him it seemed like Boromir was being so slow just to spite him, though he knew deep down that it wasn't true.  
  
"If you don't hurry up Boromir," shouted Pippin. "I shall throw these boots at you where you stand! And I won't be nearly so gentle with them as I was in the tree." Boromir felt the small bump just above his hairline.  
  
"Fine Pippin!" he said and made the rest of the stream in two leaps. Ignoring the pain, he sat down on the grassy bank and took his boots back.  
  
"Thank you." said Pippin as he handed the boots back to their rightful owner.  
  
The hobbits tended to their sore feet, some had blisters, some were just rubbed red, they hadn't noticed it earlier, but now their feet were out in the open air, they felt exactly what the boots had done to their feet.  
  
"The boots even manage to leave their lasting, and painful mark on us!" said Frodo in dismay. "They are terrible things!"  
  
"You can hardly call bare feet comfortable!" said Boromir. And the argument continued.  
  
"Gandalf," said Aragorn quietly. "What exactly did that achieve? Other than your amusement of course,"  
  
"Well I was hoping it would put an end to that argument, but that part of my plan seems to have failed," he paused as if in thought for a moment, "Tell me, Aragorn, what do you think of the hobbits now?"  
  
"I wish I had feet like them for one thing, I can see the advantage to wearing no boots certainly, but other than that there's no change."  
  
"Oh really?" said Gandalf and he directed Aragorn's attention back to the fellowship where Boromir was rolling on the ground in fits of laughter at the feet of the hobbits.  
  
"I admit it! Boots are abominations! They are works of pure evil and should be thrown into the Cracks of Doom along with the Ring!" burst out Boromir. The hobbits smiled in satisfaction and helped Boromir to his feet while Legolas and Gimli stood next to each other laughing. Aragorn turned back to Gandalf, who was also smiling.  
  
"Very clever." 


	16. A Bath

A/N: I am so sorry for the long wait, but one thing led to another and before I know it I'm back at school. Has anyone tried writing a story with a six-year-old at your elbow asking if it's "that Lord of the Rings film" you're writing about. Sweet, perhaps, but annoying when trying to write. This last week, as the exams draw near, I've had to do some rather *ahem* late pieces of work to catch up with everyone else and make sure that I'm actually allowed to sit all the exams. But anyway, enough of me and my excuses. On to the story! (Sorry again for the delay)  
  
While They Walked  
  
Chapter 16: A Bath  
  
Now, back in correct footwear, the group were walking along much the same as usual. The scenery had changed and they were now walking next to the stream, something the hobbits welcomed greatly as it meant the grass was soft and lush and gentle on their sore feet. Except for Sam, he had all but recovered and so wasn't too worried about the quality of the grass.  
  
"We should have made Gandalf swap with Bill," said Pippin darkly, "I would have gladly fixed the horse shoes to his feet." Unlike Aragorn, he hadn't been shown the benefits of their little experiment and so as far as he was concerned it had just caused his feet to be painful.  
  
"Cheer up Pippin, next time we stop you can bathe your feet in the water." said Boromir.  
  
"I need to bathe more than just my feet," replied Pippin, "I need a week- long bath with as many oils and soaps as you can find. Do you travel like this all the time?"  
  
"If you could find a better way of travelling then I would gladly take it."  
  
"You could always ride a horse, that would get you wherever quicker."  
  
"That doesn't solve the washing problem at all though."  
  
"Good point, Well, I think we should have a bah next time we stop, I for one am truly tired of all this dirt."  
  
"I do believe, Pippin, you have had a good idea!" declared Merry.  
  
"I always have good ideas Merry, you just take the credit for them."  
  
"So I do." Said Merry, and then he turned to the rest of the group, "I think that next time we stop, we should find a suitable place to have a bath, after all, we should make good use of this fresh water while we have it." There was a murmur of agreement and Merry smiled in satisfaction, but then he turned back to Pippin who was glaring like he'd not glared since Merry had stolen a cake right from under his nose when he was fourteen. Boromir laughed and congratulated Merry on successfully stealing Pippin's idea and successfully transferred Pippin's glare to himself.  
  
"Don't you start siding with him Boromir," he warned.  
  
"I'm not siding with him, I was just giving praise where it was due." Pippin snorted, though he seemed to be satisfied.  
  
Their plans decided, they walked on a little more in silence, Boromir occasionally chuckling to himself about previous conversations (not to mention he was in a good mood having got his boots back on). Gandalf stopped suddenly next to a small pool in the stream, where is was deeper and slower moving.  
  
"I deem this to be a place suitable for taking baths, for those that want to." Said Gandalf, setting his staff against a lonely tree and sitting down on a rock next to it. "We'll stop here for the day."  
  
"Oh, a bath, then tea, then bedtime! We're doing something remotely normal!" shouted Pippin, positively bouncing with glee. The company set down their packs with many a sigh. Then, before anything else could happen or any minds could be changed, Merry was shedding clothes left right and centre and dove right into to the middle of the pool. Sam looked a little alarmed at Merry's urgency and Frodo looked over Merry with a mock disapproving eye.  
  
"Brandybucks, can't live without a good swim for a few months. Honestly, some times I think he's half fish!" declared Frodo. Pippin giggled, as he too began shedding clothes, but he kept his undergarments on. "Are you going in like that? "  
  
"I don't see why I can't wash my underwear at the same time." Reasoned Pippin, Frodo agreed that it was a good idea, as did Boromir because he was rather dubious about bathing naked with a group of people he hadn't known more than a month or two.  
  
"Pippin!" shouted Merry from his point in the pool, "I do wish you would tell me your good ideas before I go and do something else."  
  
"But it's so much more fun when I don't!" replied Pippin.  
  
"Well, could someone throw me my underwear?" Sam picked up the garments, which happened to be at his feet and threw them into the water.  
  
"Right Merry, I'm coming in, is it cold?"  
  
"Extremely." Pippin walked up to the edge of the pool, where the bank cut straight off and went right down a yard or so below the water. Then he jumped. The water went over his head as his feet sank into the slightly muddy bottom. He came straight back up, unlike Merry who had swum around for a little while, and gasped, more with the cold than anything else.  
  
"Cold?" asked Frodo, now also ready to jump in.  
  
"Positively freezing." Said Pippin. Frodo nodded and took a deep breath, then jumped too. His reaction to the water was much the same as Pippin's. Merry, now wearing something, put his hands on his hips.  
  
"Frodo, you're acting just like a Took in water, I'm ashamed. It only goes to show that Lobelia knew nothing when she said you were a Brandybuck."  
  
"I don't care what you say Merry, I say we should get washed and get out." There was a gasp as Sam slowly slipped into the water. By now, Gimli had started a fire and taken a seat next to Gandalf, reluctant to remove any of his armour. Gandalf was merely sitting and smoking, casting a lazy eye over the land and Legolas had climbed up into the tree that leaned over the pool and was sitting there, contentedly watching all that was going on.  
  
Aragorn and Boromir were themselves, nearly ready to enter the pool. Sam turned from where he stood next to the bank and delved into his pack that lay there on the grass. He pulled out three bars of soap, in varying stages of use, and a bottle of liquid.  
  
"Sam, you're a wonder." said Pippin, half swimming, half walking up to Sam and taking one of the bars from him. He popped it down his front and began scrubbing, and soon the bubbles began to appear.  
  
"Don't use it all up, there's three bars for six people here." said Frodo. Once Pippin had made his entire top-half frothy, he handed the rest of the bar to Frodo.  
  
Boromir was the first of the men to get in, he slipped in the same way as Sam had but then pushed off from the side and swam around a little.  
  
"That's more like it!" said Merry approvingly as Boromir swam up to him. Boromir stopped, his feet on the bottom but his legs bent so the majority of him stayed below the surface. He faced Merry, who was on his toes, trying to keep his chin above the water, and smiled. Merry had no time to do more than wonder what Boromir was up to before those thick, strong arms of Boromir's were sweeping water towards him in something akin to a tidal wave. Merry went under suddenly but came up again soon enough, choking and spluttering. He looked at Boromir and saw him laughing and splashed him all he could, but Boromir only laughed.  
  
But then suddenly Boromir was gone and replaced by Aragorn emerging from the water behind where Boromir had previously been, or still was as it appeared, as Boromir came back up, arms flailing and spluttering much like Merry had done earlier. Aragorn had taken his feet from under him.  
  
"Watch where you're sending that water!" said a voice from above their heads, which could only be Legolas, but the still thick leaves on the tree hid him from view, if not from stray splashes.  
  
"If you wash my feet, I'll wash yours." Said Pippin to Frodo, to which Frodo agreed quite heartily. He floated calmly on his back and let Pippin massage the soap onto his feet while Sam took the bottle of liquid and began to wash Frodo's hair with it, as it was shampoo. Frodo felt blissfully pampered and important for reasons other than the thing which hang about his neck. When Pippin finished on his feet, he put them back down on the bottom and Pippin floated on the top, allowing Frodo access to his feet.  
  
The shouts and yells from the other side of the pool grew louder until, without any particular warning, a wave came and washed over the three of them. Pippin stood up and turned to face the two men and his cousin.  
  
"We are trying to wash here!" he said indignantly.  
  
"You look squeaky clean to me!" commented Merry.  
  
"Sorry, forgot you were there." Added Boromir, by way of explanation.  
  
"Charming!" said Pippin and he asked for the bottle of shampoo and washed his hair.  
  
Before long, the other three were done with splashing around and wanted to wash as well. They were each handed a bar of soap, as the three hobbits were finished with them. Pippin offered to wash Boromir's back and Frodo to wash Aragorn's because both were just ridiculously large and there was no way they'd be able to reach it all themselves. Both offers were accepted.  
  
"Don't I get my back washed?" asked Merry.  
  
"You've washed yours, I saw." said Pippin as he set about his task.  
  
"When?"  
  
"Just before we offered to wash the men's. Oh Boromir, that reminds me, let me see your lips." Boromir turned his head so Pippin could see his lips over his shoulder.  
  
"How did that remind you?"  
  
"It didn't really, I just remembered. Wait there." And Pippin swam to the edge of the pool, hauled himself out and ran over to his pack. He dug around in it for a little and pulled out a jar. He ran back very quickly; the air was colder than the water, if that was possible.  
  
"O, water hot is a noble thing!" he started as he hopped back into the water and soon Bilbo's old bath song was taken up by the other hobbits.  
  
"What's that you have there?" asked Boromir about Pippin's jar.  
  
"I don't rightly know, but I do know it's good for dry lips, try some." Boromir took a little on his finger and looked at it dubiously, but then shrugged and rubbed it into his lips.  
  
Now Bilbo's song had finished each hobbit had launched off into another one, completely disregarding whatever song another had started on, the result lacked in anything truly musical, but it was hard to not let your spirit be raised by them all the same.  
  
"Beautiful!" said Aragorn when they had all finished and he applauded them all.  
  
"I don't know about you," said Pippin, his lips blue with cold, "But I'm getting out now." and he did, followed by everyone but Merry.  
  
"Do you think we could swim to Mordor?" said Merry.  
  
"No!" cried Sam. "I'll walk to Mordor, I'll run to Mordor, I'd even fly to Mordor if some eagles were kind enough to take us, but I'd not swim!"  
  
"I have to agree with Sam," said Pippin, "I trust my legs on the ground more than I do in the water."  
  
"Alright! I wasn't being entirely serious anyway." He stopped a little while to watch the soapy bubbles drift away downstream. Then finally he too got out. "Now, what's for dinner?" 


	17. Food and Hardships

A/N: Look over there! Excuses! Yeah, I had work, I was lazy, etc. etc. etc. Here's the next chapter. Special thanks to **Pipkin Sweetgrass** for informing me that a pat of butter may not be what I thought it was. 

Enjoy!

While They Walked

Chapter 17: Food and Hardship

The fellowship was walking, which was nothing new. They were still adjacent to the stream and aside from footsteps, it was the only sound. That was, until Boromir, being the most curious about the hobbits, finally decided to ask them something he had been wondering about for a while.

"Do you value your food so highly for a reason?" He asked of the group of hobbits. They all stopped and looked at him in near disbelief.

"Value food?"

"So highly?"

"What do mean 'value food so highly'?"

"I'd say we only just valued it enough," the train of thought travelled around the four beings as though they shared just the one mind. "Too many back in the Shire take it for granted." Sam looked up to the sky, wistfully thinking of his home and the steaming roast which would be on the table at about this time.

"Aye, you never know what you've got until you lose it," agreed Merry, "Why Boromir, do you find our minds to be occupied by the thoughts of food too often?"

"I wouldn't say 'too often' just more than usual."

"Usual for whom?" said Aragorn, "They've restrained themselves from talking about food for quite a while, I'm quite proud of them."

"Restrained themselves?" said Boromir, raising an eyebrow, "Whatever is the matter with talking about food?"

"You've not heard hobbits talk about food though, that's something to rival dwarves talking of their work underground." Gimli huffed in appreciation and the hobbits smiled to themselves, no doubt thinking up all kinds of things they could say about food. "The words they use, makes you almost believe that there is a slice of perfectly roasted lamb on a plate in front of you. With mint sauce and steamed broccoli." Aragorn looked nearly lost in memories.

"Don't forget the beautifully golden-brown roast potatoes,"

"And the carrots cooked to such perfection that a single second more in the water and they wouldn't have tasted half as good."

"The smells drifting enticingly towards you," Merry and Pippin smiled as they watched Aragorn, lost in a hobbit-induced fantasy about roast lamb. Aragorn took a deep breath in, but found, to his disappointment, nothing more interesting than the smell of freshly fallen rain. His eyes flickered open.

"You two! I told you back in Bree to not do that!" Sam and Frodo were hiding their giggles while Merry and Pippin were looking for all the world like two innocent young lads, which they most certainly weren't.

"Oh but you started it off so well! We couldn't help ourselves." Merry grinned mischievously.

"I suppose it was my own fault." Merry and Pippin both nodded in agreement.

"Talking of food," said Pippin, Aragorn groaned, "No, not in that way Aragorn, I have a few questions for all of you," it was Merry's turn to groan, he knew exactly what questions these were. Pippin smiled sweetly at him. "Firstly, scone," pronouncing it with a short o as in 'con' "Or scone?" this time with a long o as in 'cone'.

The answers were immediate, so immediate that Pippin had to ask for them individually. Boromir and Gimli went with the short o and Legolas, Aragorn and Gandalf went with the long one.

"Bucklanders have it!" cried Merry and he and Frodo gave superior looks to Sam and Pippin.

"It's just a rare time when the majority is wrong," said Pippin, waving his hand dismissively.

"Frodo's not a Bucklander surely!" said Boromir, his brow creased in confusion.

"He was born in Buckland and lived there long enough to learn how to pronounce scone properly!" said Merry, exaggerating the pronunciation to annoy Pippin and Sam.

"That may be, but at least he knows the proper size of a pat of butter!"

"Quite right Sam! I'm afraid Merry, that at this point I must leave you and join my other kin."

"Traitor," mumbled Merry.

"That's my second question, how big is a pat of butter?" The answers weren't quite so immediate this time and it took a small amount of time until the fellowship had their hands held at a certain distance apart. There were two main groups, one into which Legolas and Boromir fitted held their hands around an inch apart. The other, which included Gandalf, Aragorn and Gimli, held their hands around five inches apart. "One for the Shire!" cried Pippin hugging Frodo and Sam, Merry merely glared.

"Last time pays for all," he declared while Pippin grinned at him, "What goes better with strawberries; whipped cream, or clotted cream?" Everyone answered this question in unison.

"Clotted,"

"Merry, what was that supposed to achieve? You know everyone always says clotted!" cried Pippin.

"I couldn't think of another question," said Merry, shrugging his shoulders apologetically.

"I think we can call that a draw then," said Gandalf and he picked up the pace.

"Boromir! How could you do that to us?" said Pippin, hitting him on the thigh.

"Do what to you? What am I being accused of?"

"I'll not be able to stop thinking of food for at least another week now!"

"You mean you actually stop thinking of food occasionally?" asked Frodo incredulously.

"Very occasionally," said Pippin, "But it does happen,"

"I know what Mr. Pippin means, now strawberries and clotted cream have been mentioned, I'm not sure if I'll get 'em out of my head,"

"Boromir, you are very cruel," said Merry.

"I'm sorry! I didn't realise it'd be such a problem, it was such a simple question,"

"That's what you'd think, Boromir," said Gandalf, "But on the subjects of food, families and the Shire, hobbits are never simple,"

"I think I found that out,"

"It was a good question though," voiced Legolas, "In Rivendell at least, they ate twice as much as any elf did,"

"And more than any dwarf," Gimli grudgingly acceded, not entirely willing that another race should be better at anything than the dwarves, be it fighting, digging or eating.

The hobbits, by now, were near glowing with pride. Until they patted their stomachs. They each sighed.

"We're only half the hobbits we were back then,"

"I'd say the opposite myself," said Aragorn, "Nothing like a bit of hardship to bring out some personality in people,"

"A _bit_ of hardship, maybe but this is three meals a day! A night even!"

"Calm down Pippin," said Merry in a mockery of Pippin's old tutor (who often had to tell Pippin to calm down). Pippin continued grumbling to himself for a little while. "What has this journey brought out in us then Strider?"

"Well," Aragorn thought for a moment, "You are more organised than you first were,"

"More organised?" said Pippin, "That's impossible, Merry's the most organised hobbit in all of Buckland!"

"That may be true," said Aragorn with a smile, "But he no longer has to dig deep into his pack to find the things he needs, everything is at the top ready to be used. Sam has become more efficient in everything he does. Nothing is wasted, from energy to bacon rinds,"

"O no Strider, that's nothing new, I've always done that,"

"No Sam, I've noticed the change,"

"So have I," said Legolas, "You used to throw the straggly rinds away and now you keep them all, for one thing," Sam blushed,

"Keeping them rinds is just something silly I do. I don't know why I do it, not ever going to be any use to anyone,"

"You never know that, Sam," said Boromir, "The strangest things can become useful when you're travelling,"

"Frodo, you're a lot more thoughtful,"

"More thoughtful? If Frodo was any more thoughtful he'd never get around to doing anything!" cried Pippin.

"Something has to be said for not jumping into every situation headfirst though, doesn't it Pippin?" retorted Frodo. Pippin mumbled his assent and Aragorn laughed.

"There are a few mistakes that were made early on that would not be made now on account of Frodo's new-found thoughtfulness,"

"Now Pippin,"

"No need Strider! I can guess!" he started to mimic Aragorn's voice, "Pippin has had nothing but the bad sides of his personality brought out. He complains constantly, almost always forgets something, couldn't organise his pack to save his life and talks his head off like there's no tomorrow making him the worst travelling companion possible," Pippin finished with a resounding nod.

The whole company burst out laughing, aside from Pippin's attempts at a man's voice and quite a deep man's voice at that, what he had said was just so wrong.

"On the contrary Pippin, you complain less than ever you did," said Aragorn.

"He does?" said Gimli in disbelief.

"You've not heard complaining until you've camped with a sixteen-year-old Pippin on the wettest day of the year. Not an experience I would recommend," said Frodo quietly, just to Gimli.

"You've not forgotten a thing since you forgot to see to Bill and that was almost two weeks ago!" continued Aragorn.

"Poor old Bill, I felt so terrible after that,"

"And as for talking, if you didn't talk so much what would we do with our time? We would walk in solemn silence and you wouldn't want that would you?"

"Well, no,"

"I think," said Boromir, "That everyone should have their own hobbit to travel with, I don't know how I ever managed without one!"

"I don't think you'll find many people in the Shire who'd agree with you, we're not the travelling type," said Frodo.

"You've adjusted well," commented Legolas.

"We've had to," Frodo's hand came to a halt on his chest where he could feel the band of metal beneath the material. He smiled, comforted that it was still there even though it couldn't have moved, then he quickly moved his hand and glanced around. Good, no one had seen.

TBC


	18. Home

A/N: Busy week at school and all that, not had time to write (that's a lie but let's just ignore it shall we?). This chapter is a little more serious than the others have been but I hope that doesn't put anyone off.

Enjoy!

While They Walked: Chapter 18 - Home

Day descended upon the travellers and, to no one's surprise, they were still walking. The ones who were not hobbits showed signs of searching for a place to sleep. The four who were hobbits were starting to pick up any dry sticks they could find to start a small fire on which they could cook supper (or breakfast, that was still debated). This was all done without a word, even from Pippin, as he had found others were more likely to snap at this time in the morning. Not to mention that he was worn out from a long night's walking and couldn't wait to get settled in his bedroll.

Soon enough, a place was found under a small copse where the ground wasn't quite so muddy and wet and it was deemed suitable to sleep under. The hobbits barely grumbled they were so tired, or it may have been that they were finally getting used to the hardships of long journeys. Even if they did always claim that they weren't used to it and that they never were going to get used to it because 'long hard journeys are simply not in a hobbits nature!'

The hobbits immediately set to making a quick fire and meal. They weren't yet tired enough to sacrifice the meal altogether but they no longer minded if it was rushed and if they didn't mind then no one else had the heart to complain.

"I wish I was back home," said Pippin quite out of the blue, "I wish we were all back home and everything was finished and we didn't have to keep walking," he stared at his small meal that would barely have passed for a snack back in the Shire. Frodo, who was sitting next to Pippin, put his arm around Pippin's shoulders.

"Don't worry, we'll be there before long. You remember Bilbo's tales? He always wanted to go home while he was travelling and adventuring and he did in the end!"

"I always laughed when he said all he'd wanted was his own hole and a cup of tea but it's not funny at all. I want my own hole and a nice warm cup of tea and to not be wet!" Pippin sniffled into his plate.

"Cheer up Pippin, we all get a little homesick once in a while. Everything will seem better in the evening!" said Merry. Pippin glared at him.

"But it's not evening! It's morning and I want to go home!"

"Do you really?" said Aragorn, "Would you really rather be at home while the eight of us trekked across Middle-earth?"

"Yes, well, no. I want you all to be there with me so we could all have tea and crumpets!" a smile flickered across Pippin's face.

"Don't worry Pippin, I feel the same way sometimes," added Boromir, "Except I think of tall towers in stead of a hole," even though he wasn't his usual self, nothing could quench Pippin's curiosity.

"You really feel at home in towers? You don't just make do with them because you're too big to fit underground?"

"Too big to fit underground? Too big!" said Gimli, "As a dwarf, I can assure you that nothing is too big to fit underground!" Pippin smiled ruefully,

"I know, I could never think of another reason people would want to live so high though,"

"I don't know _why_ we do. It's just always been that way," said Boromir by way of (a rather lame) explanation.

"Boromir, what else would you do if we were all with you in your home?" asked Merry. Pippin's mood seemed to have spread to the rest of the hobbits and they were all looking at him for something to take their minds of their present situation. Even if the wind and rain were trying their hardest to make everyone uncomfortable, Boromir would do his best.

"Well, we'd be sitting by the hearth most certainly and I like Pippin's idea of tea and crumpets. Then we could have a tale-telling competition. No doubt we all have our own but mine and my brother's favourite is quite a tale to be told,"

"That sounds wonderful," said Pippin,

"What would you do Legolas?" asked Merry, he now wanted to know each of his companions' idea of home.

"I'd take you outside of the halls to where the trees are welcoming and the air fresh and there I'd have a table set for a feast to cater for all races, especially the bottomless stomachs of the hobbits. There'd be music and singing while we ate and afterwards, if nobody had consumed too much wine, we could each sing a song of our own," Legolas trailed off into thought.

"I'd enjoy that very much," said Frodo.

"Mr. Bilbo'd need to be there if you're to get the best of Shire songs, though," added Sam.

"What of you, Gimli?" said Merry.

"We'd have feast as well, but in the great halls of stone. Very much warm and dry. There'd be more food than any of you could hope to eat in one sitting,"

"Are you sure you could manage that, master dwarf?" said Legolas with an eyebrow raised,

"Very sure, master elf. There would be beer aplenty, meat, vegetables, bread, cakes, everything you could wish for. Then, once we were all full, we would sit back and exchange tales or songs and finally gifts,"

"Gifts? Like the ones at Bilbo's party?" said Pippin, his eyes bright with the memories.

"Aye, and some even better. There would even be something for the elf, though not too wondrous, my father could only stand so much. An elf in the halls would be asking quite a lot,"

"I'd be happy with just that," said Legolas. This took everyone by surprise, they were all expecting him to turn down the offer. However, Gimli, ever the stubborn dwarf, hid his surprise and merely cleared his throat. All eyes then moved from Gimli to Aragorn.

"Ah," said Aragorn, "A hard question. You have already seen my home and experienced it in all its glory. My second though would be to take you to the Prancing Pony in Bree but I fear that would encroach on the hobbits' territory. No doubt they'd have a number of inns lined up for us to try the ale at,"

"We wouldn't mind at all Mr. Strider,"

"No, by all means, if that's where you'd go,"

"No, no, I can think of one more place. It's a small waterfall in the valley of Rivendell and it's far and away the most beautiful spot in all Middle-earth. I'm usually quite content to just sit there and listen to the birds singing but as we'd have hobbits with us, we could bring along some food. Then we could do anything, from talking to swimming," everyone took a little time to think how lovely until Merry broke the silence,

"Gandalf? What would you do?"

"I wouldn't start thinking about such things until we had got the hard part out of the way,"

"Gandalf!" said Pippin indignantly, "That's no fun!"

"We are not here to have fun, Peregrin! We're here to ensure that the fate of Middle-earth is safe!" everyone fell completely silent. Pippin sucked in his bottom lip to stop it wobbling and looked at the empty plate in his lap. Merry considered glaring at Gandalf but quickly realised that would achieve nothing. Frodo pulled Pippin closer to him and Sam shifted nearer so Pippin was surrounded by the ones he'd known all his life, which was the closest to the Shire Pippin was going to get right now.

Unlike Merry, the elven, dwarven and mannish parts of the fellowship thought that glaring at Gandalf was exactly what was required.

"Gandalf!" said Aragorn sternly, though quietly, not wishing to disturb the hobbits, who were talking quietly to Pippin. "That was not the best time to speak so harshly to Pippin!"

"He needs to understand the seriousness of what we are doing!"

"And he will. He doesn't need to be shouted at when he's already in such a melancholy mood,"

"What got you thinking about home?" asked Merry gently, "It's not like tonight was much different from any other in the past fortnight,"

"I don't know, I started thinking about the day I left home because I had nothing better to do and now I just want mummy and daddy to be here with me. I miss them,"

"I miss me old Gaffer too, but he'd just tell me to snap out of it and keep walking. 'None of your complaining!" he'd say, 'you've got food and good clothes on your back which is more'n can be said for some people,' and he'd be right,"

"I know, I know, I'm being silly," Pippin wiped his eyes and sniffed. "I left a letter in my room telling everybody that they shouldn't worry, but they will be worrying, won't they?"

"Yes, but there's nothing you can do to stop that," said Frodo.

"The last person I saw was Pervinca and she asked me when I'd be back but I couldn't answer her," Boromir came over to the little huddle of hobbits bearing a cup of water. He offered it to Pippin.

"I'd usually bring something a bit stronger than water but we don't have anything," Pippin looked up at Boromir and took the cup from his hands.

"Thank you, Boromir,"

"Boromir, what are they doing over there?" said Merry, motioning towards the other four members of the fellowship. Boromir looked over his shoulder.

"I think they're berating Gandalf for his harsh words," Merry raised an eyebrow and looked from Boromir back to the others. Gandalf was no longer angry, he seemed to be nearing bewildered. "It seems he's forgotten quite how you hobbits worm your way into people's affections," Merry grinned up at Boromir,

"It's a speciality of ours,"

"I suggest you all go to bed, you need as much sleep as you can get," said Boromir, standing up.

"There's no argument from me," said Frodo, who still had a comforting arm around Pippin, "What about you, Pippin,"

"Bed sounds like exactly what I need," so Boromir and the hobbits set out their bedrolls. Boromir noticed that the three elder hobbits were constantly reassuring and patting or hugging Pippin.

Just as they were about to climb into bed and get some well-deserved sleep, Gandalf walked over to them.

"I'm sorry Pippin-lad," he said, "I didn't mean to snap. I'll take your watch tonight," Pippin looked up at Gandalf, very much surprised.

"But I didn't take a watch last night and if you take mine then you'll be even grumpier tomorrow!" Gandalf chuckled.

"I promise I won't be. You make sure you get lots of rest, you deserve it,"

"Thank you, Gandalf,"

TBC


	19. Sleeping

A/N: This was a stubborn chapter, it stuck its heels in the ground and refused to be written. The git.

Enjoy!

While They Walked

Chapter 19: Sleeping

The next evening Pippin woke earlier than usual. There was no particular reason, other than he'd already had a good night's sleep and two in a row would be far too much for one person. He slowly opened his bleary eyes and looked towards the setting sun. Merry was on watch and sitting at the fire, occasionally poking it with a stick. He wasn't being overly productive. Pippin called out a mumbled half-whisper that was originally meant to be Merry's name but didn't end up sounding so.

"Is one of you awake?" said Merry to the hobbitpile. Pippin answered in the affirmative though it sounded more of a sleepy groan.

"What are you doing up so early? You've got at least another three-quarters of an hour," Pippin attempted to answer that he didn't know and that he wished he were still asleep because he'd been having a brilliant dream about apple pies. But all that came out was a sort of "oomph".

"I see," replied Merry, "Now, are you Frodo or Pippin?"

He was answered with another sleepy groan.

"I'm guessing Frodo because he generally prefers bed more than Pippin. One grunt of I'm wrong, two if I'm right,"

Pippin grunted once.

"Really? What's made you so tired? You've had two nights without a watch!" Pippin made a noise very similar to "I don't know". Merry nodded and prodded the fire again. "Are you actually going to get up or are you going to lie there and grunt at me like a hungry pig?" Pippin answered by trying to drag himself from the warm blankets with much effort and limited success. "Do you need any help?" Pippin's answer was recognisable as:

"No, I'm fine,"

"You don't look it. Honestly, someone who'd just died would be up quicker than you,"

"And with much less noise," added Legolas, who'd obviously been disturbed from whatever Elves described as sleep. Merry jumped, for he hadn't noticed that Legolas had awakened. Pippin giggled.

"Legolas do you have to do that?" said Merry

"To what are you referring?"

"Can't you give some sign that you're awake or at least shut your eyes while you sleep?"

"Very well, next time I wake, I shall yell so that you are forewarned,"

"Legolas, that'll just make me jump more," Legolas smiled. Pippin trudged over to Merry and sat down next to him.

"I wasn't too loud was I?" asked Pippin

"No one else is awake as far as I can tell so I shouldn't think so," replied Merry.

"Good," said Pippin as he yawned, "Because it was bad enough that I woke up, I don't want to wake everybody else up,"

"You were hardly the loudest this evening," said Merry,

"I wasn't?"

"No, Boromir's been tossing and turning and crying out occasionally, he was far louder than you,"

"He always does that though, do you know why?" Merry shook his head so Legolas proffered his answer.

"I believe it may be because of the battles he's been in. He often gives orders to his soldiers and talks to them as though they've just fought together," Merry and Pippin both looked up from the fire and gave Legolas condescending looks.

"You listen? Legolas, that's terribly rude,"

"It can be hard to not hear when lying right next to him," said Legolas.

"He still dreams of battles? I'm glad I'm not going to do any fighting," said Pippin,

"You don't know that Pip, you may yet,"

"Yes, but not in a big army or a siege or anything, it'd be small, there are only nine of us,"

"Hopefully there won't even be small excursions with the enemy, we're trying for secrecy," said Legolas.

"I've heard Gimli mumbling in his sleep, have you ever listened to what he says?" said Pippin, completely disregarding the previous topic of conversation.

"Pippin! Don't encourage him!"

"Don't worry, Merry," said Legolas with a smile, "I've never listened to Gimli in his sleep, no doubt he dreams of digging holes in the ground or finding mithril in some cave deep within the earth. Nothing at all interesting,"

"Why do you dislike Gimli so much?" asked Pippin, "You disliked him before you even met him. Isn't that a bit silly?" Legolas' smile grew to a grin,

"It would take far too long to explain the relationship between the dwarves and the elves, it's much better to just leave it as 'we dislike each other',"

"But just because he's a dwarf? That's like disliking someone because they're from Buckland! Yes, they're all a bit queer over there, but really!"

"Pippin, don't think you can sneak insults past me," said Merry. After a sly grin, Pippin continued,

"I think I've worked out why dwarves live underground," Legolas raised his eyebrows with interest but Merry rolled his eyes.

"Here we go, be ready for one of Pippin's famously ridiculous theories," Pippin ignored him,

"I think they snore too loudly to be allowed above ground too often, do you remember when we slept right next to him, Merry? I dreamt about dragons all night!" Merry laughed,

"And if you're ever getting tired while on watch, just sit yourself next to Gimli and you'll have no chance of dropping off to sleep," the three burst into stifled laughter.

"Gandalf's mumbling can be quite distracting as well, don't forget," said Legolas. Pippin nodded enthusiastically,

"Don't even try listening to it though, one day I spent until lunchtime wondering about what I'd heard,"

"_That_'s why you were so quiet!" Pippin hit Merry lightly on the arm for that remark.

"Speaking of quiet, Aragorn's the quietest sleeper I've ever seen,"

"You have to remember he's a ranger, Pippin," said Legolas, "Silence is very important out in the wilderness,"

"I realise that, but couldn't he at least show some signs of life? I had to prod him to check that he hadn't died!" Legolas laughed but Merry said:

"Yes, I've had that problem too, it's most troublesome when you have to stare at him for half a minute to work out whether he's breathing or not,"

"That's not the case with your fellow hobbits?" asked Legolas,

"No, why would it be? We're quite used to the privacy of our own bedrooms where we can be as loud as we want in sleep,"

"You are very quiet creatures, though," said Legolas, "It would make sense for your sleep to be quiet and you are by no means the noisiest sleepers of the fellowship," Pippin snorted,

"You'd think differently after a night of Sam snoring in your ear, it's almost a relief to go on watch sometimes. Like when he had that cold and his nose was blocked up; I was too exhausted for words but I still didn't get to sleep for an hour!"

"Listen to yourself, Pip! You sound like an old gammer at the market gossiping to all her friends!" remarked Merry,

"It's true though!"

"Merry," interrupted Legolas, "May I ask what a gammer is?"

"You may," said Merry. Legolas waited for the answer but none was forthcoming. Pippin sighed and rolled his eyes,

"Don't mind him, Legolas, it's an old trick of his. A gammer is the same as a gaffer, only female,"

"And what's a gaffer?"

"An old hobbit," answered Merry. Legolas nodded to show he understood. "I'm surprised you've not heard Sam say it, he often does,"

"I've heard him, I just haven't understood him,"

"Actually, Frodo's taken to mumbling a bit hasn't he?" said Pippin,

"He's always mumbled,"

"No, I mean in his sleep,"

"He didn't used to?" said Merry, mildly interested.

"No, he was a very silent sleeper,"

"He was? How do you know this, Pip?" Merry was quite flustered that Pippin knew all these things about Frodo that he didn't.

"When I was younger, I used to sleep in Frodo's room whenever I stayed at Bag End,"

"You did? I don't remember you doing that,"

"That would be because only me and Frodo knew. It was back when I was sent to bed much earlier than everyone else and one night I got bored, so I went into Frodo's room but he came to bed and caught me there. I asked if I could sleep there that night and he said 'just this once' so I made a habit of it,"

Merry mumbled something under his breath, Pippin looked at him suspiciously, believing he knew what Merry had said but he couldn't be sure. Legolas, however, had heard quite clearly: "Tooks!"

"Well," said Merry, "I know for certain that you've always been the most fidgety little hobbit in bed and you most definitely still are!"

"And you're the perfect example of a still sleeper?"

"Of course!"

"You only say that because you don't have to put up with yourself. You manage to take all my blankets even when we're not sharing them! You punched poor Frodo on the nose the other night as well,"

"I heard that," said Legolas, "I was about to come to your aid but you seemed to have managed on your own,"

"Perhaps I should sleep next to Gandalf tomorrow night," mused Merry, "He deserves it after last morning,"

"O no, don't go on about that, I'm embarrassed enough as it is," said Pippin.

"Gandalf was terribly harsh on you though, I think he should learn to keep his temper under control," Merry had a gleam in his eye that meant a plan was in the making.

"Well, don't expect me to have any part in it, I'd rather just forget it," said Pippin.

"I would like to play a part in your plan," said Legolas.

"As would I," said Aragorn.

"I was hoping I could be of some service as well," added Boromir. The two hobbits and the elf looked towards the men, slightly startled (the hobbits more so than the elf).

"How long have you two been listening?" asked Pippin,

"I've been listening since you said Aragorn was a silent sleeper," answered Boromir,

"I've listened since your explanation of a gammer," said Aragorn.

"For goodness' sake! You could've said good evening or something,"

"I was waiting to see if you said something about me," said Boromir,

"As was I," said Aragorn.

"No manners. No manners whatsoever!" said Merry, mostly to himself.

"Are you the only ones awake?" asked Pippin, they all turned to look at Gandalf, who was as asleep as he ever seemed.

"I should think so, but let us continue this conversation another time, it's nearly time for everyone to rise," said Legolas.

Sure enough, just a few minutes after those words were uttered, Sam rose and started cooking breakfast, despite half the fellowship sitting around looking suspiciously innocent. _Something's being planned here,_ he thought to himself, _probably best you don't get mixed up in it, Samwise._


End file.
